Learner Mum

by Joanne Rawson

Polly Wilkins is a successful freelance journalist slash writer. She has been living with her partner Steve in what her parents call sin for the last eight years. But, to her parent's disappointment, there are no signs of wedding bells or the patter of tiny feet on the horizon. Why? Because Polly, is not in the least bit maternal. Can this all change after Polly and Steve have a torrid weekend looking after her nephew? Or will Polly stick to her guns and loose Steve forever?


I love my life, my routine. There is absolutely nothing I would change, but then one weekend, I had a phone call that was about to change not only my sacred weekend but a part of me, too. For you to fully understand where I am coming from, let me tell you a little about myself, I promise it won’t take long.

I come from a very religious background. Regardless of my parents’ preaching hellfire and brimstone, I have spent my entire life rebelling, unlike my younger sister, Wendy, the role model of morality, who has done it all by the big black book: courted, engaged, married and now raising a family. Although I am a successful freelance journalist slash writer, when I introduced Steve to my parents, straight away they knew he was the ideal husband for their then-twenty five year old daughter. Finally, I had found a man who could add stability to my life of debauchery. Steve is a morning presenter on one of Nottingham’s local radio stations, and the only son of Clive Rutherford, MD and Susan Rutherford, a respected pediatrician.

However, Steve and I have been living in what my parents call ‘sin,’ for the past eight years. We are so happy with our life, but to their disappointment, there are no signs of wedding bells or the patter of tiny feet on the horizon. Why?

Because, I hate babies. Well, perhaps hate is a little strong, and honestly speaking, how can I hate something I don’t know a bloody thing about? Don’t misunderstand me, of course I’m fully aware of the biological know how, of how one gets a baby. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of the practical, but NEVER, NEVER, have I been tempted in the least to follow the experiment through. I personally think all men’s willies should be tattooed with a baby warning, like the stickers you see about dogs and Christmas in the back of a car window. It should read: A kid is for life, not for one night of sex.

And another thing, what is all this crap about my biological clock  ticking, or we just know when we are ready to start a family? So, what do these people do? One night they are sitting watching their nightly soaps and the wife instead of saying, “Shall I defrost a chicken for dinner tomorrow?” says, “I think we should start a family.” Then the husband considers for a moment, during an advert, and replies, “O.K. love, but after I’ve watched the news.”

So now, you know that I, Polly Wilkins, am not in the least bit maternal.

"Learner Mum" by Joanne Rawson


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