Entry 29: in which the boy plans his earthly excursion

Now those who follow this journal will know that when it comes to entities I admire and respect, Mrs G is right up there in the vanguard. I seek her counsel at every opportunity, bounce ideas off her, test my theories, spin some philosophy and prototype my jokes.

Curiously she often maintains a silence during these intellectual meanderings, but it matters little. The important thing is her empathy and support. This may not be explicitly proffered but is, I am certain, always there.

However on the matter of the boy and his penchant for celestial excursions I prefer to stay silent. He knows his own mind; or at least I am charitable enough to believe so, and I think it better that he get on with it rather than worry his mother to no avail.

We had a long discussion about the particular form he will take on Earth. Given that he wishes his stay to be of some duration, he has opted to take on human form. I insisted that he go the cloning route as the one least suspect from the ethical standpoint.

"But Pater" he objected "is it not the female monkeys who bear the young?"

"Your point being ... ?"

"Well doesn't that mean I'd be a girlie too?"

"Your point being ... ?"

"Well Lucy's told me all about what being a girl entails on that planet and ... " He broke off going pink and pale by turns. "I'm simply not having it! There are fluids involved and cavities and things and, well it sounds absolutely horrid and far too biological for my liking. I want to be a boy".

Not having it? This is so tiresome! I mean who does he think he is?

"You'll have to take the Ghost with you then. He'll do the necessary gene splicing, but don't blame me if you end up with two heads".

"Oh thank you Pater, you are a darling" and off he skipped in search of the ghost. A darling? That boy worries me sometimes.

"There are rules" I called after his rapidly diminishing form, but he chose not to hear me. Never mind, I'll nobble the Ghost.

And how curious that, contrary to their beliefs, instead of them being made in my image, one of us is about to be made in theirs.