Wednesday, February 21, 2007
There may be an infinite number of parallel universes, and we just happen to live in one of them. These other universes contain space, time and some of them may even contain me, in a slightly different form. What is fantastic is that these parallel universes may exist less than one millimetre away from us, milling about like loads of bubbles.
In the parallel universe where The Parents live, stick insects do not exist and every family eats organic vegetables and bedrooms are always a joy to walk into. Children wash everyday, have nice tidy converstaions with their chums and do homework, just for fun; the trouble with bubbles is the high danger of popping.
Right, so we come to the ruction I was talking about. When The Parents find out about the cress seeds actually being stick insect babies they are VERY DISAPPOINTED. This is because:
a. they were ultra-keen to help me with some actual homework and now there is none
b. they are not ultra-keen on stick insects and now there are some
c. I lied to them
Out of all of these disappointing things, c is the worst, the absolute horror and the total work of the devil. It makes them put on their Very Droopy faces and loll about over mugs of tea in the kitchen, wondering where they have gone wrong with me. I try and make them feel better by pointing out that I never lied to them, I just did not tell them the whole truth. This only makes them sigh more.
'We must make sure this doesn't happen again,' says Dad.
'No, it definitely will not,' I assure them, 'Miranda is not giving me anymore stick insects, I know that.'
'Your father means - no more lying , Wilfred.'
I do not think I can agree to this, since that could be another big fat lie.
I try distraction. 'Can I keep them, then?'
Mum puts her head in her hands. 'Never mind that now, we have something important to tell you, Wilfred.'
What - more important than stick insects? More important than being Very Disappointed with me?
'I can keep them?' I venture.
Dad starts puffing up like a gorilla about to attack. 'Yes! You can keep the stick insects as long as they stay in your room and inside a cage...COME BACK!'
I am half way out of the room, ready to find a cosy spot for the tiny babies. 'Oh, yes,' I remember, 'thankyou. Bye.' I run.
'WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A BABY, WILFRED!' bellows Dad.
It is at this point that I think I went to some parallel universe where ancient disappointed people shout at you about babies. Very weird. Anyway, I ignore this impossible happening and take my little sticky children up to my bedroom.
On the whole I think that went rather well.