The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1125 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“I see the fairies must have been,” I smirked seeing Danny so pleased with himself.

“Thank you, Mum,” he gave a huge hug.

“How d’you know it was me?”

“’Cos I do.”

I hugged him back, “Well don’t tell the others, they’ll all want one.”

“No I won’t,” spouted Trish, “stupid football–I hate it,” she added and went out of the room.

“This is probably a guess, but I get a distinct impression that your sister doesn’t like football.”

Danny thought that was hugely funny and burst out laughing. “Yeah, but she’s like, quite good at it.”

“One of life’s little ironies.”

“What’s an irony, Mum?”

“It’s when things seem to happen that are opposite to what they should be, so it’s ironic that Trish is good at football but hates playing it.”

“Hey, that’s clever, having a special word for it.”

“It’s been about for a long, long time, I think the root of the word is Greek meaning pretended ignorance, or something like that.”

“You’re so clever, Mum.”

“No I’m not; you confuse a good education with intellect. I had the former, I’m somewhat lacking in the latter.”

He went off shaking his head, so I think that went over his head, but at least he has some idea of what irony is.

I went in search of Trish who was doing her homework. The others had gone off somewhere else and I could hear giggling coming from upstairs. “How’s the down below, now?”

“Okay, thank you, Mummy–it hasn’t hurt since they took the stitches out.” It worried me that the skin would shrink and be less for them to make labia from–but she made a decision to lose her testes, and unfortunately, will have to live with the consequences, for good or bad. I know that’s tough on a six year old, but sadly they couldn’t stick them back in.

“What homework are you doing?”

“Geography, we have to fill in the answers to questions.”

“Like what?”

“Which country has water features called fiords?”

“And which one has?” I asked her.

“Norway, that’s right isn’t it?”

“It is, but they also have them in Denmark, because I’ve sailed along one.”

“Oh, they never told us that.”

“Norway is the one with the spectacular scenery along the fiords, so I’d leave it like that.”

“I shall ask our teacher tomorrow,” she said, “Any of the others wrong?”

I glanced through them, “No they look fine to me.”

“Good, thank you, Mummy.”

“You make me smile, girl.”

“Why?”

“Well you’re so competitive, but you don’t like doing it at sport, do you?”

“No, that’s for boys.”

“You tell that to Victoria Pendleton or Nicole Cooke.”

“I ’spect they’re clever as well.”

“Oh yes, they sure are.”

“Are you competi-wotsit?”

“Yes, I like to win when I enter something.”

“So maybe I take after you, Mummy.”

Sure you do–can hardly be an inherited factor–“Maybe, anyway, if you’ve finished you can lay the table for me.”

“What are we having, I’m starrrrrrrrrvin’?”

“Dromedary giblets on black bread, why?”

“Ewwwwww,” she said wrinkling up her face.

“Do you know how difficult it is to get bits of dead camel in Portsmouth?” I kept a straight face but she was screwing hers up in disgust.

“I don’t care, I’d rather have bread and jam than dromdy wibbles, or whatever you said, and I don’t mind brown bread, but black bread sounds horrible.”

“Okay, you can have a bit of bread and butter,” I said, trying to get to the kitchen before I started to laugh.

“What’s f’tea, Mummy?”

“Forty is two twenties, why?”

“No–for tea, Mummy?”

“I told you forty is two twenties.”

Livvie was starting to get irritated by my apparent stupidity, “Muuuuummy, don’t be so silly, what are we going to eat for our tea?”

“I’m being silly, well it made you think how to rephrase the question, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, so?” she shrugged.

“It challenges you to speak more correctly and to be more explicit in your questions.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said and I almost saw my statement go washing over her head without her taking any of it on board.

“We’re havin’ dromdy wiggles or something, aren’t we, Mummy–I’m not, I’m havin’ bread n’ butter.”

“What’s dromdy wiggles?” asked Livvie.

“Bits of dead camel.”

“Yuck, that sounds like, totally disgusting. Can I have bread and butter too, Mummy?”

“If you wish.” I left the two of chatting together while I finished the grated cheese which was going on the jacket potatoes. Dromdy wiggles indeed.

I quickly placed a salad garnish on each plate, popped the potato in the middle, sprinkled on the cheese and began carrying them to the table. I called them all once the first plates were on the table and they arrived in dribs and drabs afterwards.

“This isn’t dromdy wiggles,” stated Trish.

“Would you prefer them?” I shot back at her.

“Um, no thank you, silly Mummy.”

“What on earth are dromdy wiggles?” asked Stella trying to work out what Trish had mashed this time.

“Bits of dead camel,” offered Livvie.

“You mean dromedary something or others?”

“Dromedary,” said Trish, “Could be? Is that right, Mummy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Are they the one or two humped camels?” Stella enquired.

“Dromedaries are single humps, they also call them Arabian camels, the others are Bactrian.”

“Are they?” Stella wasn’t up on exotic ruminants. Then she said to Trish, “If a dromedary has one hump, and a Bactrian has two, what do you call a camel with three humps?”

“Pretty uncomfortable, I ’spect.”

“No, Humphrey.”

“Why Humphrey, Auntie Stella?” asked Livvie.

“Three humps–hump-free–hump-three, now do you get it?”

“Oh yes, Auntie Stella, that is so clever,” Livvie beamed at her auntie.

“Have you ever tasted camel milk cheese?” I asked Stella.

“Ugh, no.” She made a funny face and the kids laughed like mad at her.

“This isn’t camel’s cheese is it?” asked Danny poking at his potato.

“No, this is ordinary mousetrap,” I replied.

“Mousetrap, eeeewwwch,” said the girls in unison.

“Camel cheese is very difficult to get, because it’s difficult to make, it’s very low in cholesterol.”

“Yeah, okay–I’ll stick to this, thank you,” said Stella.

“Tomorrow, we’re having wallaby steaks,” I teased the girls.

“Wobbly steaks?” Trish’s eyes were like saucers, “What, you mean they wobble?” Before I could answer they were all giggling, including Stella, who was shaking her head and tears were rolling down her face, so I guess she found that rather funny.