Roundabouts
"What's your favourite food?" She's sat on the roundabout, right in the middle, she'd insisted upon being in that position ever since Nikki had vaguely mentioned that apparently it makes people feel less sick. She'd asked Leo if it was true and the elder man replied that he had heard of the theory, yes. Whatever Leo said was practically gospel truth to her, so she stuck to her little plan. You can't understand how moving a few inches could possibly change the strength of the horrible dizzy feeling produced by the god awful thing. You've always hated them; they've always made you feel sick. You wonder if you should have a go at sitting in the middle (like she urges you to do every time you're in a park) maybe then you might enjoy it, but you very quickly decide against it. The time your dad insisted you went on one comes to mind and you'd rather not ruin another one of your favourite t-shirts.
You hesitate to answer her question; it's a difficult one, especially for a man whose mother may as well be a professional restaurateur and whose wife isn't far behind. You think about what you've eaten in the past week, for your mind struggles to remember anything beyond a week or two; most days seem to merge into one another now you're over 40. Monday you had pasta and Tuesday you had a takeaway because Nikki got called out, leaving you to arrange dinner; your cooking skills only stretch as far as being able to serve up cheese on toast and you'd used all the cheese that morning making packed lunches. You have to keep the takeaway secret though, Nikki's trying to be as perfect as Nigella Lawson and have you all eating healthy food, although you have a feeling that she has noticed the Penguin bars you sneak into the kids' lunch boxes. Wednesday is always macaroni cheese day and Thursday is 'Chance' day, one of the kids chooses a random page from the recipe book and Niks makes it. You block Thursday out of your mind, the meal had involved spinach. Friday you had cheese on toast because you had to rush off to a case and today you're at Janet's birthday, so you stuffed yourself full with numerous mini bites and little triangular sandwiches.
You have taken her to the park just down the road; she had become bored of how weird Nikki and Janet were being, although her brothers remained highly amused, so they stayed. You didn't fancy explaining alcohol to her; so you simply said they'd had too many tuna sandwiches - you hope this will deter your daughter from her current obsession with tuna sandwiches, thus meaning you don't have to face the smell every morning whilst making her lunch. You're glad you took her out and as usual you enjoy hearing about the unicorn picture she painted and how she has the meanest brothers in the world; but you're even happier that you managed to bring a tray full of food with you.
Right now you are eating ice cream, the multi coloured one, that's stripy in the box, and is meant to be strawberry, vanilla and chocolate, but it melts away in your bowl and ends up as a gloopy pale brown mess; you think it's called Napoleon or something. It doesn't look great. You think it tastes nice though.
"Ice cream," You shovel a large spoonful of the stuff into your mouth as soon as you've answered your daughter. It tastes wonderful. You know you've answered the question correctly.
Because often I don't really have the inspiration to write for a continuing storyline, and sometimes I just fancy writing a little random bit, I thought maybe this would be a nice way for me to do that. I found this first chapter hidden away on my computer from months ago, which explains Janet's presence. Hopefully there will be more to follow :)