Thinking about the fungus affecting ash trees, I have been wondering if there are other fungi affecting our lives adversely.
In particular, I wonder if there is a fungus which makes otherwise rational people who do not even seem to like children, except as some kind of animated toy, desire strongly to become parents.
It could explain a lot.
Yesterday I was in Moribunds Supermarket when I heard the cockatiel screech of an uncontrolled child. Or so I thought.
I am so sick of the noise I tried to ignore it, but the sound grew louder and presently two young but exhausted people came towards me pushing an elaborate armoured vehicle, a baroque perambulator, from which came a chorus of avian sounds.
I looked in and saw the little face; but it was a bird's face; and just under the covers there were feathers and a wing horribly crushed in an attempt to hide it, I believe.
What are you doing? I shouted. You have a bird there. You'll hurt it. What are you doing?
They began to say shsh, a sound that would-be proud parents often make.
Don't shush me, I began, so cross that they were dressing up a bird as a baby.
Please, Sir, said the man. PLEASE. Please don't tell on us. We so want a baby.
Well, have a baby, I said; but don't confine a wild creature
We can't have a baby, he said. She muttered the same thing.
Adopt one, then, I said. I keep hearing how there is a shortage of foster parents. If you actually like the things, apply.
It takes too long, she said.
Yes, he said. We can't wait. We want to be normal. And this sounds like a baby.
What do you mean by normal? I asked
Normal, he said. Like everybody else. We want to be normal.
I called the RSPCA and they were taken away, screaming they would kill me for being heartless and intolerant of basic human desires.