The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3035 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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On returning home Trish loaded the pictures she’d taken on her computer and brought them to me to see. They were actually quite good and when Livvie saw them she looked rather peeved. She criticised them for all sorts of imaginary flaws until I heard what she was doing.

“Livvie, you might have taken better photos because you’re a good photographer; but you chose not come, so please do not criticise Trish’s photos which I think are pretty good.”

Her bottom lip quivered and she left quite abruptly. I found her upstairs crying on her bed a few minutes later when I’d gone up to change. “I hate your horrid dormice,” she said when I spoke to her.

“Why; what have dormice ever done to you?”

“They’re horrible.”

“You must be pretty unique in thinking that, most people think they’re delightful.”

“Shows how stupid people are then.”

“At times I must admit I do think people are a bit dim, or do silly things, one of which might be storming off in a fit of pique and saying silly things to justify it.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“Is that me, you’re describing?”

“I don’t know do I, I’m just a stupid person, perhaps you’d care to enlighten me.”

“You’re a professor, Mummy, so you must be clever.”

“But I can’t be because I like dormice.”

“Dormice are all right I suppose.”

“But you still hate them?”

“No, not really—that was just me being silly.”

“And why was that?”

“Dunno—I was jealous I suppose.”

“Jealous of who?”

“Trish.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s your special daughter.”

“You are all my special daughters, I don’t have favourites.”

“But you do, because she’s like you—transwotsit.”

“No she’s female the same as you and me as far as the system is concerned.”

“But you’re not are you—I mean you can’t have babies or periods.”

This was stabbing me straight through the heart but I had to try and play it down, but if I hear her say it to any of the others, I shall take immediate and severe action.

“Neither can lots of women.”

“Yes they can.”

“Can they—how d’you know?”

“I hear them talking about having periods and babies.”

“Do you now—well for your information female fertility rates in this country are falling, so increasing numbers of young women are finding it difficult to conceive. Women may not have periods for all sorts of reasons but stress can stop them, weight loss can stop them and other hormonal things or surgery because of things like ovarian or uterine cancers.

“It’s funny that when it suits you I’m female enough to be your mother but obviously not enough today. So perhaps you’d better call me something other than your mother.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I’m asking you to call me something other than mummy.”

“But that’s who you are, my mother.”

“But I can’t be, you just told me I’m not a real woman, so I’m afraid that means I can’t be your mother and Trish can’t be your sister, for the same reason.”

“Of course you are, you’re my mummy, Mummy.”

“But you told me that I wasn't a real female, so I can’t be.”

“But you have to be,” she said after a painful pause.

“Do I? Don’t I have a say in it?”

“Yes, of course, but you’re our mother.”

“Livvie, you can’t do this to people, say one thing because it suits you or you want to hurt them. People have feelings too, and your family have deep feelings for you so it’s very easy to hurt them. Is that what you want to do, hurt us?”

Tears were now trickling down her cheeks but I needed for her to feel the pain for a moment in the hope that she doesn’t wish to repeat the exercise. What she was feeling was only a touch of the pain that was ripping through my emotions from what she’d said. I know it was said in anger but that isn’t the point. If anger reduces the inhibitions on hurting people, is it what she really thinks of her siblings? If it is, I’ve failed and badly. I should have stuck to dormice and left children to real women.

Suddenly she threw herself into my arms, “I’m sorry, Mummy, I’ve been a nasty girl, will you forgive me?” she said sobbing heavily.

“Is that what you really think of us?”

“No, I love you all, I just wanted to hurt you because I was hurting.”

“Why were you hurting? I gave you the chance to come dormousing and you could have taken some pictures too. It was you who chose to stay home.”

“I’m jealous that I’m not transwotsit like the others, because then you’d love me more.”

“Livvie, I wouldn’t love you anymore than I do now. You are my daughter, so are the others. That some of us can or can’t have periods or whatever is not important. I love you all just the same because you’re all special to me. You all have special gifts to develop—you have your skill with the camera but you’re also clever enough to do most things if you really want to. Trish is extremely clever at logic problems but she doesn’t have your emotional grounding—she could do anything...”

“Except have babies...” Livvie interrupted.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that because she may just be clever enough to change that.”

“What to make herself pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s impossible.”

“So were lots of things we take for granted today, from flying around the world to heart transplants. In the not too distant future, women like me or Trish will be able to have babies.”

“So you would be like real females?”

“If that is if you categorise us, yes, but it still means I can’t be your mother again.”

“Why?” she looked puzzled.

“Because you’ve once again told me by inference that I’m not female now, ergo I can’t be your mother.”

“I don’t understand what I’m saying that’s wrong, you are my mother.”

“Right, I shall say this once very clearly so you do understand and then you can choose what you want to do. As far as the rest of the world seems to be concerned I’m female and adopted mother to you and all the others. However, you seem to think I’m not female enough to meet the criteria for being female, so I can’t be your mother.”

“Are you going to make me leave, Mummy?”

“No, I promised that you could stay here as long as you wanted to, but you have to choose what you want me to be or what you think I am, because that’s going to influence how and what you think of me. It won’t change how much I love you because I gave that commitment when your biological mother died and you asked me to adopt you. It could however influence how you relate to me.”

“I don’t understand, Mummy?”

Oh boy. “If I’m your mother you have to accept I’m female in however broad a category that is. If you can’t, then you’ll have to call me something else, perhaps by my name instead.”

“I want to keep calling you Mummy and Trish and Danni are my sisters and I wish I’d never said what I did earlier, because I was horrible. I want you to be my Mummy for ever, because I love you and want you to love me.”

“Okay, darling, I think we’ve sorted that but please never let me hear you saying any of this to the others or suggesting that they’re not ordinary girls or your sisters. We are one family and we all stick together and look after each other.”

“Yes, Mummy, I’m sorry I was so horrible.”

“It’s over now and you’re forgiven but just think about what you say because people can become very hurt very quickly.”

“I will, Mummy, I promise.”

“Good, now dry your eyes and go an tell Trish you like her photos.”