Nothing Out Of The Ordinary

Siobhan sighs and rubs her head absentmindedly, lowering her book and looking over the top of the dusty pages at her Mother.

"What's wrong honey?"  Meredith stops peeling carrots and looks at her daughter with interest.  It was such a deep distracted sigh for a girl of sixteen.

Siobhan smiles reassuring her Mother the breath was indeed a touch melodramatic for the situation.

"I wish I could write like this." She puts down the third volume of The Lord of The Rings she was engrossed in and slurps the last of her juice through a stripy straw.
Meredith smiles and puts down the carrot she was halfway through peeling.  The tiny Elf sitting on the corner of the chopping board jumps to his feet and glances sternly at the big orange vegetable, which is now rolling towards him.  Meredith mouths the word ‘Sorry' and stops the steam-rolling carrot with one finger.  The jade-clothed man shakes a fist at Meredith, muttering something so low it's inaudible, before jumping off the edge of the chopping board and disappearing behind the bowl of peelings.

"Maybe you will be able to one day," Meredith says encouragingly. "If you take after me you'll certainly have the imagination for it."

Siobhan frowns. "Where do you get your ideas from Mum?"

Meredith smiles and finishes peeling the last carrot.  Then she slices off the ends and bounces it into the steamer with the other vegetables.  She dips her hands into the sink to rinse them off.  A tiny group of mermaids who are wallowing in the shallows look up from their conversation and wave, their little cockle-shell bikinis glistening among the soap bubbles.

"Ideas are everywhere honey," Meredith explains. "You just have to be open to them."

As if on cue the back door slams shut and Todd wanders into the kitchen, his school bag slung heavily over one shoulder.  His knees and ankles are caked with mud, little wands of grass sticking out from between the steel spikes of his soccer boots.  His laces drag out behind him along the washhouse floor and little bits of dirt drop from his feet, like telltale crumbs of after school sports, dotting the lino.

"Todd, don't you dare come any further." Meredith points to her son's feet and shakes her head.  Todd has such a bewildered expression on his face that ears and a fluffy white tail spring from his body.  Suddenly he looks like Roger Rabbit, donned in red dungarees blinking innocently up at her.  She laughs.

"Take those boots off outside."

"Oh." The penny drops and Todd steps backwards gingerly, retracing his footsteps.  He glances down at the mud he's already dropped all over the clean floor, as if it will magically disappear when he puts everything into reverse.

"What a retard," Siobhan scolds her brother as he skulks backwards through the glass-panelled door and sits on the step to take off his boots.  He pokes his tongue out at his older sister from around the corner.  The appendage is bright purple and

Meredith laughs. "Todd, what have you been eating?"

Todd frowns. "Nothing," he says immediately, but looks guilty as his Mother approaches.

A little red man in a leather suit, with horns protruding through his jet black hair, sits on Todd's shoulder, his forked tail flailing back and forth as he grins up at Meredith.  She flicks him off quickly with her thumb and curled forefinger, watching him roll into the garden and disappear under a dahlia bush.

"Todd, your tongue is purple." She grabs Todd's head from behind and he cranes his neck to look back at her.

"Oh that." He grins. "Coach gave us lollipops."

Meredith scowls at her son. "Okay, I hope you didn't spoil your appetite."

Todd jumps up in his socked feet and smiles at Meredith.  His halo tilts. "Of course not Mum, I'm always hungry."

"Okay, hit the showers Rinaldo." Meredith watches her son disappear into the depths of the house.

Siobhan is still sitting at the table, now working on her English assignment.  She taps her pencil lightly against her head as if willing the ideas to come.  Her head is rested heavily in her hand and her body is slumped sideways, weight supported by her elbow bent onto the table.  Next to her arm sits a giant ginger cat, eyes half shut in contentment as it purrs loudly.  Its tail flicks back and forth slowly, enjoying the late afternoon sun, which slants in through the kitchen blinds. 

Of course cats aren't allowed on the table, but Meredith just blinks and the feline disappears.  Maybe its time to get another cat, she thinks as she watches Siobhan.  They haven't had a family pet for two years now, since Kansas the dog passed away at the ripe old age of thirteen.  She'll talk to Carl about that when he gets home from work, and if the kids are willing they'll go down to the SPCA this weekend.

Her train of thought is interrupted when out of the blue Siobhan asks,
"Mum, do you and Dad have a Ceb list?"

Meredith frowns. "A what?"

Siobhan grins, embarrassed by the thought of having to explain such a thing to her Mother. "You know, a Ceb list," she pauses, trying to find the right way to reiterate. "A list of three unobtainable people you would be allowed to sleep with if you ever met them."

"Oh, Celebrities." Meredith grins. "Where on earth did that come from?"  She goes back to the sink and pulls the plug, letting the soapy water swirl lazily round the drain.

Siobhan shrugs her shoulders. "I was just wondering that's all.  It was on Friends.  I just wondered if people really have them."

"No, we don't." Meredith grins, entertaining her daughters question for a moment. "But it would be fun to have one, don't you think?"

Siobhan laughs and puts down her pencil, leaning forward across the table with interest. "Who would you have Mum?"

Meredith thinks about it.  Images of Celebrities crowd her mind for a moment.  She looks out through the kitchen window.  The neighbour's dog is busy finding a good place to bury his bone.  He digs a little hole in the earth with his paw and drops his loot in quickly, glancing around to see if anyone is looking before he turns and kicks the dirt back into place with his back feet.  He trots away towards the house.

"I don't know," Meredith says dreamily.  She's busy thinking about Johnny Depp, Hugh Jackman and Brad Pitt, but then she thinks maybe she should pick people who are geographically closer.  What would the chances be of meeting men currently residing in America?

"I'd have Owen Wilson, Leonardo DiCaprio and Orlando Bloom," Siobhan says wistfully.

Meredith screws up her nose playfully. "Owen Wilson." She grins. "The Butterscotch Stallion." She remembers the way the celebrity was recently referred to by a local radio personality.

"Hmm, he's dreamy," Siobhan replies.

"Okay young lady, time to pack it up." Meredith glances at the clock on the wall. "Your Dad will be home soon and I have to get tea finished." She pours water into the bottom of the steamer and reaches to switch it on.  A large brown snake is curled around the bottom of the sugar canister, sleeping in the warm sun.  She picks it up cautiously and hangs it over the hook on the wall, where it instantly turns back into an electric jug cord.

Meredith steps into the laundry to get the washing she had brought in from the line earlier.  It had been such a nice day she had managed to get two loads washed and dried.  To her surprise there is a man standing behind the washhouse door.  He steps out smiling as she picks up the basket of clothes.  It's Daniel Carter, superstar of Canterbury Rugby and member of the New Zealand All Blacks team.

"Hi Meredith," he drawls shyly. "I heard that I might be on your list?"

Meredith laughs. "Well, I hadn't really thought about it but you would be just fine Dan, sure, why not."  He has dark hair, brooding eyes and a dimpled smile. 

Meredith swallows while she pictures him as he appears in the Jockey underwear advertisements.  She rushes off with her basket.

"Sorry Dan, no time to talk, I have to fold the washing."

She walks through to the lounge, puts her basket on the floor and turns on the television.  It's nearly time for the evening news.  She sits back on the couch and plucks a sweatshirt from the top of the pile.  As she turns her head she catches a glimpse of Robbie Magasiva who is sitting next to her quietly, smiling sheepishly.  He has wavy black hair and a pearly smile.

"Hi Robbie," she says casually.  She can't help but notice he's not wearing a shirt.  He's much better looking in real life than on television. His brown skin is like melted chocolate.

"Hey Meredith, just stopped by to see if I could be on your list too?"

Meredith thinks about it for just one moment. "Okay Robbie, but the news is on in a minute so you have to be quiet." She shoos him away with one hand.  When she looks back he has gone.  She sighs and goes back to folding the washing.

A few minutes later she hears a tapping in the hallway.  It's just loud enough to be annoying.  When the ads come on the television she gets up and goes to the door.  Opening it she finds Marc Ellis staring at her from the other side with a roguish smile.

"Just checking to see if you have a home ventilation system." He has curly unkempt hair and a boyish charm that Meredith finds irresistible.  She can't help but smile at his sense of humour.

"I suppose you want to be on the list too huh?"

"Well, seeing as you asked." There goes that lopsided grin again.  His eyes gleam.
Meredith smiles.  She can hear the garage door opening and she knows Carl is home.

"Okay Marc, but you can't be here now." She shuts the door again and goes back to her washing.  She can hear Carl coming into the kitchen through the washhouse.

"Hi Honey," he yells comically from the kitchen.  His lunchbox clatters onto the counter.

"Hi, I'm in the lounge," Meredith shouts back.

Carl appears in the doorway with a big smile, made just for her then he comes over to the couch for a kiss.

"How was your day?"

Carl sighs. "Oh, well its Friday tomorrow." He smiles and looks down at his wife. "How was your day?"

Meredith knows Carl is worried she's bored at home, that her life is unfulfilling.  She is a writer, a Mother, a wife, sometimes separately, often all at once.

She crafts her daily imaginings into stories, books that will be read by children in schools and while they're tucked up in bed, with sleepy contented smiles.  Nothing could be more satisfying.

Yet she watches Carl, who works so hard because he knows nothing else, would live with nothing less.  So when it comes to answering his question Meredith cannot find the words to express what she really means.  Every day is a wonder, limited only by her imagination.  Today there was an Elf, a fluffy ginger cat, a devil on her son's back, a group of mermaids in her sink, a snake in the kitchen, not to mention the three gorgeous men who graced her household while she went about her day.  And that was just after lunch!

Meredith gives Carl one of her all-knowing smiles.

"Oh well, you know, nothing out of the ordinary."