At the end of twenty-eight days, Polydor had the opportunity of seeing (well-lit room - at home - not out for once) that the day written next to the pill she was taking didn't coincide with the day that was happening In The World. Something had gone wrong somewhere. She woke up the next morning to find a pale baby, with light brown curly hair, in her care. First things first. Polydor procured a blanket and wrapped it up.

So far, so good. She changed its nappy. She took it to day-care and she bestowed upon it many hugs when they were home. She found that she was anticipating seeing the baby after work; she enjoyed their daily reunions. She couldn't think of a name for it. She'd been calling it Blanket and she knew this was incorrect behaviour.

After a week or so, the child wanted to walk on its own.
"We'll buy you some shoes," said Polydor.
She carried the baby to Kmart and she found the children's shoes section. The baby wanted any shoes, no preference.
"They don't fit," said Polydor, holding up shoes to the baby's feet, measuring them for size.
"I like those ones," said the baby, no matter which pair of shoes.
It wanted to walk around. They settled on some navy booties with a Velcro strap.

Before long, Blanket wanted its own computer. Polydor purchased an ASUS Eee. They sat together in the evenings, browsing, reading, conversing.
"This is an incredibly rude question," said Polydor.
"Hmm?" said Blanket.
"I feel quite embarrassed by asking - but are you male or female?"
"Female," said Blanket.

Blanket was significantly changing Polydor's life. She cut back on her expenditures - no more "smashing it up" at bars. Day-care was expensive. But Blanket appreciated it.
"I like the social aspect," she admitted.

Polydor decided that it was really up to Blanket to choose her own name.
"I can't decide," said Blanket. "I'll keep this name until I can."
"Don't the other kids laugh?"
"Keeps me on my toes," said Blanket. "It's OK."