Once upon a time, in a land not so removed from ours, there lived a family with Mother, Father and 2.8 children called 1, 2 and point 8. Every week day morning, Father would rise early with Mother to ready himself for work whilst Mother made them breakfast. Together they sat in the quiet of the morning, eating their breakfast and chatting to each other about the day they are about to have and any chores they wished of the other during it. They browsed the paper together pointing to little funnies that made them chortle and smile to one another. Before the clock struck 7.30 Father would leave for work with kisses and words of love to Mother who replied in kind.
Mother would then arise her children from sleep with song and frivolity as their mild anoyance of it tickled her fancy, then march them in song to the bathroom to clean and the kitchen to eat. She sat with them listening to and engaging in their prattle, ensuring they ate too, then sent them off to dress for school as she cleared and cleaned the kitchen. If they were early to be ready, as they always were, they could watch cartoons for a time on tv. When it was time to leave, Mother would call them for inspection at the front door, with face washers at the ready should she need to. One never cleaned behind his ears. Two always had breakfast about his mouth and Point Eight being a girl was sometimes needing a touch up but not always. Final words of warning and love were given to the three children before they walked themselves to school together.
Mother then kicked back with cancer stick and coffee as she contemplated her day ahead. Somedays it was washing, another day would be shopping, everyday would be one room, alternating to clean thoroughly whilst the others were merely tidied. What ever her chores, they were done before lunch, allowing time for her to engage the community exploring her hobbies, charity and friends.
At four, her children would arrive home in a cacophany of excited noise aching to be the first to tell of their day. Mother would have afternoon tea ready for them and prepare the evening meal as they talked with her. Once they had calmed and their news given, she would set them chores or move them to homework done at the kitchen table so that help was at the ready. Everyday, during the preparation of the evening meal, each would take turns in reading to Mother from their reader or a book of choice, upon which personal comments from Mother and Child would result to further aid comprehension.
At six, Father would return home tired from his day, but improved in mood from the smiling faces and welcome greatings of his family. The children would be sent to watch countdown whilst Mother and Father recounted their days poking fun at this or that, talking seriously on this or that.
Dinner was then served and all about the table was chatter on topics of various interests to satisfy all. Afterwards was quiet time with TV, books, newspapers, colouring, boardgames and quiet chatter intermingled, before the children were sent to bed. Mother and Father were not long past their children to bed. And in the slumber of night, all slept well having their various relationships satisfied.
My name was Point Eight.
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