Reading to the bump

“Ladies and Gentlemen” William shouted above the uproar, “will you kindly shut up an’ listen to me? I’m goin’ to tell you how to win the war. Now listen.” He said, “an’ I’ll tell you all about these gases an’ suchlike. They’re” – he studied his notes with frowning concentration – “Per-sis-tent! That’s what they are. Per-sis-tent. Well, that’s what it says here. It mus’ be right, mus’n’t it, if it says so here? An’ there’s one – well, it’s got a long name, I won’t say it to you ‘cause you cun’t understand it, an’ it smells like pear drops. It says so, I tell you. Shut up….No, I’ve not got any pear drops. I never said I’d got any pear drops. Why don’t you listen when I’m givin’ a lecture? I wouldn’t give you any if I had either, not with you not giving me any of your liquorice all-sorts last Saturday. You had got some. You were eatin’ ‘em. Shut up about pear drops. I never said a bomb was made of pear drops I said it smelt of ‘em….Well” uncertainly, “p’raps it is. P’raps it is made of pear drops. No, it doesn’t say so here….Well so are you anyway….I didn’t. I said the bombs smelt of ‘em….It say’s so here….I dunno….All right, if you don’t want to listen, don’t. I don’t care….No, I’ve not gotter bomb. Shut up about pear drops. I’m tellin’ you how to win the war….Well, you gotter know what bombs smell like to win a war, haven’t you? I do know what I’m talkin’ about….I never said they dropped pear drops, I said they dropped bombs. I said the bombs smelt of pear drops….I dunno why they smell of pear drops….Listen,” he pleaded, hastily scanning his paper, “I’ll tell you somethin’ else if you’ll listen….” But the meeting was breaking up in disorder.

William and the Air Raid Precautions (1939). Richmal Crompton.

There is evidence that unborn babies in their third trimester respond to sounds from the outside world. Furthermore there is a theory they begin to get used to and therefore bond with the sound of their parents voice. When Kerry was pregnant with Amy I read the bump P.G.Wodehouse every night. This time I’m reading Just William. If my children turn out to share my passion for English comic novels from the beginning of the last century then I will be entirely to blame.

The reading sessions usually take place at around 10pm when we’ve gone to bed and are usually accompanied by giggling by me and snores from Kerry. Just as I’m unable to contain my mirth at the text Kerry is unable to restrain her narcolepsy and invariably falls asleep. Still, at least the baby is listening.