And Baby Makes Two

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In many ways, the twenty-fifth of October was an ordinary day, which means it started with a fight with my mother and carried on from there.

The fight with my mother was because there wasn’t any milk for the tea. As per usual, this was my fault. Nothing was ever Hilary’s fault. God knows what she did before she had me to blame for everything. Because of the fight, I was late for school again. Mr Cox, my tutor, gave me a detention. I tried to reason with him.

“But it’s my birthday,” I said. “You can’t give me a detention on my birthday. That’s Fascism.”

“No it isn’t,” said Mr Cox. “It’s frustration. But you can do the detention on Monday.” He gave me his cheesy, I’m-your-friend smile. “Happy Birthday.”

After that I got told off for talking in geography. Then I got told off for talking in maths. Then I got told off for not having my homework in history. Then I got told off for not having my homework in English. And, finally, I got told off by the headteacher for talking back to my geography teacher. All systems normal.

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