From the Journal of Miranda Grey-Beeman:
Normal: conformance to an average.
'Our family is in a sense, a normal family. It consists of a mother, father, daughter, a robot, a good deal of alien life forms... Did I compare my family to that of one that is normal? If I did then I would like to point out that while a few aspects of our family maybe unnatural, compared to the other secret scientist's and their families, we are the most normal one.
Oh wait, I apologize but I am getting ahead of myself! Let me start over and explain the basics structure of my family:
For starters, my name is Miranda, as listed on the cover of this journal. I study the use of worm-holes and have also created a robot assistant, Dead Bolt. Another thing I would like to add is that I am very territorial when it comes to my space and my things, so if the person who is reading this journal is not me then I kindly ask that you close it now and put it back where you've found it unless given permission to do otherwise. If you do have permission, then feel free to read on for I am about to get to the much more colorful characters in my life. Next, we have my husband, Arthur Beeman; a studier of extra terrestrial intelligence who could stand some improvement when it comes to his alien references that I can hardly understand as it is.
Anyhow, regardless of this flaw, I love him anyway. He really is a wonderful husband as well as an excellent father to our three year old daughter, Cassandra. I swear, that girl is the light of our lives, as well as the ball of sunshine that just never wants to go down for a nap-
"Hm, speaking of which." Miranda muttered, placing her pen down for a moment. "Its about time she woke up from her current one."
"Mummy? Who are you talking to?" A voice suddenly chirped behind Miranda as she turned away from her journal momentarily to face the newcomer.
A petite toddler stood before her, with her mop of black hair hanging in lazy pigtails at her shoulders and her dark eyes heavy with sleep. If these did not indicate that the child had just woken from her nap, then her Ben-Ten blanket (currently clutched in her tiny arms) did. With a soft smile, the scientist pulled her daughter onto her lap and kissed her cheek.
"Aliens, I'm talking to Aliens." The mother joked, tickling the girl's sides as she jeered with laughter.
"Really?" Cassandra cooed, her eyes widening to the size of saucepans as she tried to look over her mother's shoulder to see the 'aliens'.
Miranda laughed softly again and redirected her daughter so that instead of looking at the journal, she was facing the door which she had just entered from. While she didn't see any alien, Cassandra now saw someone that was truly alien, especially with those pink sunglasses of his that would compute crazy calculations backwards for the two of them to see while he was working.
"Oh, leave your mother alone, pumpkin. Shes writing in her diary again." Arthur said as he entered the room and plucked the little girl from her mother's lap.
"No, no. Shes just fine where she is." Miranda said, slowly rising from her chair and folding her arms.
"Yeah daddy, so leave me alone!" Cassandra mimicked as she reached over and hit the power button to her father's sunglasses.
No sooner had she done this did the frames loose their calculations and turn a translucent pink again. Arthur frowned as this, and shifted his daughter to his other arm so that he could reach for the power button again, only to have his hand knocked out of the way by her tiny fist. His frown deepened and he tried yet again, only to have the same result. By now, it was apparent that his daughter did not want him to go back to work, unfortunately, it was not apparent to him.
"Cassandra, if you keep that up then you're going to the time-out chair." Arthur said sternly, holding the little tot out in front of him as if expecting a tantrum.
And as luck would have it, there would be a mini-one.
"Casey! My name is Casey!" The little girl yelped, waving her fists around like white flags. "Cause when I grow up, I'm going to study these creatures like you and mummy do, and cause Dr. Casey Grey has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
"Cassandra, are you still complaining about your name?" The red-head laughed, walking over to her two favorite people and patting the smallest of the two on the head. "We've been over this sweetie."
"I'm not mummy, I'm complaining about my nickname." She said while smirking abit.
"The difference?" The mother asked putting her hands on her hips and returning the smirk.
"..." This statement resulted in a staring contest between the two while the only male in the room just watched awkwardly in silence. Luckily, the clever red-headed woman found the perfect subject to talk about next. Or at least in her mind it was the perfect subject.
"Um, do you want some lunch 'Casey'?" Miranda asked, trying her best to keep from giggling.
"I do, but SOMEONE ate my yogurt!" Cassandra yelped slapping her hands on her pink cheeks and pouting.
"Wasn't me." Miranda replied simply, seriously thinking her daughter would end the conversation like that.
"Daddy doesn't like yogurt, so who else might've done it?" She asked next, waving her hands in the air.
"Maybe the 'Aliens'." Miranda teased, adding in air quotations as she spoke
"HEY! They are real!" Arthur cut in suddenly. "How else do you explain the crop circles!?"
"Same way you explain your daughter's disappearing yogurt, Aliens." Miranda laughed, gathering up her journal and pen and then migrating to the kitchen for some much needed quiet.
Upon arriving, she set her belongings onto the table and was just about to write when she heard her family enter the room and the window suddenly creaking opened. She looked up quickly and at that moment a 'phantom' like creature slipped in through the kitchen window, opened the fridge, stole Cassandra's yogurt and was gone quickly.
"What the bloody hell was that!" Was all the mother could say in her state of shock.
Arthur shook his head slowly and went to the open refrigerator door and closed it. After this, he walked over to his wife and sat next to her at the kitchen table and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"We were close." He said with a simple shrug. "It was definitely something alien."
Miranda opened her mouth to said something witty in response, but then decided against it and instead decided to write one last thing in her journal for now. Picking back up her pen, she opened the paperback book and wrote:
'As I have said before: As far as the other scientists and their families go, we are one of the more 'normal' ones. Even when the Saturday's 'phantom' steals from our fridge.'