Jenny’s brain popped. And now there was just a big green splatter all over the ceiling and walls. It was like a scene from The Walking Dead, without the blood.

 

“I told you it was too much!” I moaned. “Jenny’s brain said a maximum of 600 psi, and you over-inflated it.”

 

“I’m sorry,” said Harry, my husband. “I thought bigger might be better. But it’s okay. We’ll order a new one.”

 

It took the courier three days to bring a new brain and in the meantime, Jenny was on ice.

 

Harry carefully took the new brain out and installed it into Jenny’s head. Child size was 300 psi, teenager size was 600 psi, and adult was 800 psi. Jenny had just graduated from being a child android to a teenager, and instead of paying a company to upgrade her brain, we’d thought we’d do it ourselves following a YouTube tutorial.

 

Harry began pumping the brain up to teenage size.

 

“Don’t overdo it, this time,” I warned.

 

“Yes, dear.”

 

I held a bottle of bleach in my hand, ready to clean up any fresh splatters. It had taken days to get rid of the old stains. Harry was pumping hard, and Jenny’s brain was looking pretty sizeable.

 

“Is it done?” I asked.

 

“Almost.”

 

Harry stopped pumping and bought out a free sewing kit that we’d picked up from a hotel we’d stayed in. “How’s your sewing?” he asked. “Or… we could just use the hot glue gun?”

 

“I’ll give the ol’ needle and thread a try.”

 

I took over, making a quick job around Jenny’s hairline. Running stitch was the only stitch I knew how to do, but I figured it was good enough. I seemed to remember small and neat was better, but I didn’t want to be at it all day.

 

“There, I think I’m finished,” I said. Admittedly, it was a bit of a botch-up, but I was sure once the artificial skin knitted together it would be fine. I was just keen to get my Jenny back, the new Jenny. Lord knows she’d be different. We’d already had to extend her body form, elongating her limbs and whatnot, and the Instruction Manual on Teenagers was gargantuan. I really hadn’t had time to read it all, but I’m sure we’d cope fine.

 

“Now what?” I asked.

 

“Just the final bit. An electrical charge. They recommend defibrillator pads. But I thought, maybe the old 'knife and toaster' trick might work.”

 

“Great thinking.” Harry was so ingenious sometimes, and very cost-efficent.

 

I got the toaster from the kitchen and also grabbed a hairdryer and a bucket of water. If one failed we could always try the other.

 

“OK, let’s do it!”

 

Harry ran some complicated electrical wire system from the knife wedged into the toaster to Jenny’s head, and he stood by the electrical switch ready to turn it on.

 

“You ready?”

 

“Yes!”

 

He flipped the switch and Jenny’s body leapt in the air before lying still. Some of her hair was fried and there was a faint smell of burning.

 

“Mum? Dad?” whispered a small voice.

 

“Jenny! You’re back. Welcome to being a teenager!”

 

“Oh shit,” said Harry, looking faintly worried. “I forgot to waterproof her.”

 

“What?”

 

“Her head. I should have applied the new waterproofing. Never mind, she just can’t get wet.”

 

“Wait… I can’t have a shower?” said Jenny, her badly sewn brow furrowing.

 

“No,” said Harry, “but don't worry, I remembered the acne. Excess oil production should begin in a couple of days.”

 

“The important thing is you’ve got a new brain, sweetie,” I said.

 

“Let me see!”

 

And we gave her the mirror, which was a bad mistake; fried, sizzled hair, a line of uneven stitches in a zig-zag across her forehead, and perhaps her brain wasn’t quite sitting straight in her head.

 

“I hate you!” she screamed, before running out of the room.

 

“Well, it worked,” I said. “She’s definitely a teenager.”