INTERIOR, DAY, MY CAR. SOMEWHERE ON THE M5.
In the car are Becky, Ben and me. We are playing a seemingly endless game of “What Animal Am I?”
BECKY: Are you a mammal?
BEN: Are you friendly?
ME: Reasonably friendly, yes.
BECKY: Do you live in this country?
BEN: Do you live in a zoo?
ME: Not usually, no.
BECKY: Are you furry?
ME: Erm, maybe more hairy than furry, but definitely sort of furry, yes.
BEN: Are you bigger than Matey the dog?
BECKY: Are you some sort of farm animal?
ME: Good question! – Yes, I’m some sort of farm animal.
BEN: Do you make something that humans can use?
ME (convinced we’re on the home straight now): Yes! Yes!
BECKY: Are you…are you a Meerkat?
ME: Erm, no. Meerkats only live in zoos.
BEN: Are you…an Armadillo?
ME: No, Armadillos only live in zoos too!
I don’t know why Ben thought something that’s mammalian, furry, lives on a farm, makes something humans can use and is larger than our childminder’s black labrador is more like a Zombie than it is like a Cow.
But it’s good to see he’s prepared for the worst.