24 Nov

caveman photo: Caveman ontheloose_Caveman.jpgThe boy had been called Ugg because that was just about the only sound his parents could make and consistently get right, and they needed to call him something.

It was quite a few years since they’d been blessed. His mother, Ogg, had grown very big very quickly and the man who shared the cave with her, Bog, by name and nature, knew she was about to produce an infant. Other women grew fat and observation had led him to conclude that the sudden enormity was on account of a little person growing inside a female.

It would have been nice if they had any sort of inkling how the tiny people got there, but as far as they were concerned a divine being, maybe a tree spirit or it could be one of the invisible creatures that made the wind blow, was responsible. The tragedy was, I suppose, that they didn’t associate it with anything they did.

Anyway, Ogg had grown enormous and produced Ugg and because to start with his had been helpless and gurgling they had nourished him. By they I mean Ogg and Bog, her male.

It had happened like this.

Somehow they had grown sort of fond of each other. They didn’t know why, just that they had, and that fondness had become a jolly affair one very cold night when they had snuggled together for warmth and his tackle had inexplicably grown huge and she had drawn him so close to her that, and this was the odd thing, the swollen bit had slipped inside her.

They had giggled a lot and he had jiggled a great deal and then both of them had felt an extraordinary explosion actually in their bodies, and they had sworn in thought rather than language that they didn’t properly have that they would stay together for ever, and that’s what they were doing, even with Ugg growing ever bigger and learning the ways of the menfolk by hunting, sometimes successfully.

The games had continued, however, and so had the inexplicable fatness that the womenfolk seemed particularly prone to, and Sig had tumbled into the world.

That had been bad, that had, because Ogg had caught the sickness and died soon afterwards, leaving Bog and Ugg to deal with Sig.

That dealing with hadn’t lasted long, because Sig had caught the sickness as well, and died. That was two bodies to be left for the carrion birds to dispose of.

Then, when the two males were in the despairing agonies of grief, losing half the family in quick succession like they had, Ugg had met Pip.

He liked Pip, and they played almost grown-up games together until one day Pip had stopped him when his tackle was higher than a mountain and told him, in halting syllables and a deep frown, that he should only do it if he wanted to make another person with her.

He hadn’t a clue what she meant.

He had laughed and told her it was nothing but a wonderful game and games like this should be played for all they’re worth, and she had grown angry and told him to think about stuff before he made any commitment to the future, and he thought for a moment or two, couldn’t grasp the implications involving commitment, and did it anyway, not because he hated her but because it was damned difficult not doing it when his tackle was ready to explode like it soon did.

True to form, she grew heavy and produced a tiddler and they called it Plop because that was the name it sometimes made with its bottom.

When she had recovered from the ordeal of childbirth Pip faced up to Ugg and told him in no uncertain terms that he had done something really, really bad.

“We females get blamed for the weakness in you males,” she shouted, “and here and now it’s got to stop!”

It didn’t, of course, because Ugg was the stronger.

A year or so later Pip died. In childbirth. Ugg wept and wondered why his world was suddenly in tatters. And wandered off in search of another pretty playmate.

Bog cared for Plop because someone had to, until Ugg comes back, he thought, but Ugg didn’t. He was a free spirit, a physically strong one, and to hell with everything else.

© Peter Rogerson 24.11.14


6 Responses to “THE WOES OF WOMEN”

  1. barbod2014angusbelle November 24, 2014 at 6:24 pm #

    And so the world goes round……
    Odd how the women find out, before the men, where the sprogs come from, hehehe

    • Peter Rogerson November 24, 2014 at 7:08 pm #

      I reckon itmust have taken quite a long time for the penny to drop…

  2. slpsharon November 24, 2014 at 10:30 pm #

    Maybe we figured it out first cause we got so fat arond you guys.

    • Peter Rogerson November 25, 2014 at 9:53 am #

      Maybe you figured it out first because you’re brighter, Sharon…

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