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childhood, and playing poo sticks with real poo.
    While the apple of their eyes tentatively straddled the rocking horse, which had frighteningly big teeth, Vimes told his wife about the objectionable spinning housemaids. She simply shrugged, and said, “It’s what they do, dear. It’s what they’re used to.”
    â€œHow can you say that? It’s so demeaning!”
    Lady Sybil had developed a totally calm and understanding tone of voice when dealing with her husband. “That’s because, technically speaking, they are demeaned. They spend a lot of time serving people who are a lot more important than they are. And you are right at the top of the list, dear.”
    â€œBut I don’t think I’m more important than them!” Vimes snapped.
    â€œI think I know what you’re saying, and it does you credit, it really does,” said Sybil, “but what you actually said was nonsense. You are a Duke, a Commander of the City Watch and,” she paused.
    â€œA Blackboard Monitor,” said Vimes automatically.
    â€œYes, Sam, the highest honor that the King of the Dwarfs can bestow.” Sybil’s eyes glittered. “Blackboard Monitor Vimes; one who can erase the writings, somebody who can rub out what is there. That’s you, Sam and if you were killed the chanceries of the world would be in uproar and, Sam, regrettably they would not be perturbed at the death of a housemaid. She held up a hand because he’d opened his mouth and added, “I know you would be, Sam, but wonderful girls though I’m sure they are, I fear that if they were to die a family and, perhaps, a young man would be inconsolable, and the rest of the world would never know. And you, Sam, know that this is true. However, if you were ever murdered, dread the thought and indeed I do every time you go out on duty, not only Ankh-Morpork but the world would hear about it instantly. Wars might start and I suspect that Vetinari’s position might become a little dangerous. You are more important than girls in service. You are more important than anybody else in the Watch. You are mistaking value for worth, I think.” She gave his worried face a brief kiss. “Whatever you think you once were, Sam Vimes, you’ve risen, and you deserved to rise. You know the cream rises to the top!”
    â€œSo does the scum,” said Vimes automatically, although he immediately regretted it.
    â€œHow dare you say that, Sam Vimes! You may have been a diamond in the rough, but you’ve polished yourself up! And however you cut it, husband of mine, although you are no longer a man of the people, it certainly seems to me that you are a man for the people, and I think the people are far better off for that, d’you hear?”
    Young Sam looked up adoringly at his father, while the rocking horse rocked into a gallop. Between son and spouse, Vimes never had a chance. He looked so crestfallen that Lady Sybil, as wives do, tried a little consolation.
    â€œAfter all, Sam, you expect your men to get on with their duties, don’t you? Likewise the housekeeper expects the girls to get on with theirs.”
    â€œThat’s quite different, really it is. Coppers watch people, and I’ve never told them that they can’t pass the time of day with somebody. After all, that somebody might provide useful information.” Vimes knew that this was technically true, but anybody who was seen giving anything more useful than the time of day to a policeman in most streets of the city would soon find a straw would be necessary to help him eat his meals. But the analogy was right, anyway, he thought, or would have thought, had he been a man to whom the word analogy came easily. Just because you were a member of somebody’s staff didn’t mean you had to act like some kind of clockwork toy…
    â€œShall I tell you the reason for the spinning housemaids, Sam?” said Sybil, as Young Sam