Dances With Werewolves writes: After tea James switched on the TV to watch Doctor Who. "For research", he said before lapsing into a science-fiction induced trance. I switched on my computer, for a little light studying.
I could tell at once that James had used my computer. The mouse, usually on the right, had been moved to the left of the keyboard. (James is the only left-hander in the family). I don't mind that. What I did mind about, and I said so with some force, was the little stickers he had glued over some of the keys. Stickers with a lot umlauts on them.
"Well, it's hard to type in German on a UK keyboard," he said in a period of lucidity. "That's why I touch-type," I said. Then I stopped and thought about his answer. "Why were you typing in German?" "I was showing Albert how to use your LingQ website," he answered. "He thinks it's very clever. By the way, he's corrected some mistakes in your German writing assignment. He could be your tutor if you like." I could feel one of my bad headaches coming on. "I think that's taking it a bit too far!" I snapped.
James smirked. "I didn't realise you were prejudiced against the post-living!" "I don't mind that he's dead, I mind that he's Swiss!" I retorted, more sharply than I meant to. "I've always had trouble understanding Swiss German." "What you need, Mum, is practice. You should find a Swiss German penfriend," said my son, studying the television with the air of a research scientist watching a tricky experiment. "You cheeky little..." I started to feel a twinge of foreboding along with the migraine. "What have you done? Have you been sending e-mails from my account again?" "Look up Kuckucksuhr on LingQ," he answered. "She says she'd love to be your penfriend. She has a husband who's a project leader at CERN and a daughter who's learning English." And with that the Daleks invaded Earth and James lost interest in anything but the battle to save the planet. I groaned and went upstairs to enjoy my headache in peace.
