The Family (standard:humor, 3567 words)
Author: Lilly Plume	Added: Sep 06 2007	Views/Reads: 3217/2085	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A mother lays back and lets her family take over everything (to be continued)

The sun was hot. In fact it was baking on that incredulously warm
summer's day. We sat, like the perfect family, on the sandy beach with 
our umbrellas, rugs and sand covered picnic. Nelly, my middle daughter 
was sunbathing in a ludicrously small bikini which made all the passing 
men and boys stare until Harold made her cover up because she was 
turning red. Grudgingly, Nelly put on a tiny vest top that hardly 
covered more than her bikini, though the stares did lesson. Nelly was a 
very skinny girl, with a flat stomach but hardly any boobs. Her dark 
chestnut hair was cut in a square bob, that she informed us was oh so 
fashionable when we had to pay the extortionate bill for it, which 
matched her dark eyes. Our youngest daughter, Abigail, was making a 
sand castle and had roped our two oldest children, Faith and Robert, 
into helping her. Abigail was a cheeky beautiful child, with the same 
chestnut hair as Nelly but with paler skin from less sunbathing and 
chubbier cheeks from never turning down an ice-cream. Abigail was such 
a cheeky child, with the most fabulous laugh that could win her 
anything. It was quite a sight to see her running around with a pair of 
bikini bottoms on, like a French child, collecting shells, feathers and 
stones for the castle. Faith and Robert were still piling sand onto the 
mound and chatting away about something from school. Robert, our oldest 
child, looked hansom at nearly 20 his muscles were well defined and his 
dark hair was curling around his ears, much like his father's at that 
age. Robert was very stubborn; nothing anyone said could change his 
mind about anything apart from Abigail. One word from her and he would 
do anything. He loved her so much that it was almost like he was the 
father, rather than brother. We, Harold and I, knew how much Robert 
wanted children, but his girlfriend; Elise wanted a career before 
babies, leaving Robert to dote on his youngest sister. Faith was blond 
and awfully thin, bones poked through her white skin all over her body, 
and even on that hot day she wore a woollen shawl around her shoulders. 
Faith was16 years old and lucky to be alive, everyday I thanked God 
that she was still alive. As a baby she had been very ill, all the 
doctors thought she was going to die, but thankfully she pulled 
through. To this day she remains a fragile person with her weakened 
immune system, though stunning with her blue blue eyes and almost white 
blond hair making her look almost porcelain. Though fragile she had the 
same long legs as her father and her brother, leaving her 6 foot tall 
on that hot summer day. Nelly and Abigail were much smaller and broader 
in the shoulder, which Nelly never stopped telling me was unattractive 
in a woman, as if I had choice in how she was made and could edit her 
at any point if I wanted to. At 14 Nelly believed that having the 
correct broadness of shoulder, the correct flatness of stomach and the 
least spots were the most important things in life, not forgetting her 
beloved sunbathing. Faith, though only a couple of years older than 
Nelly, was much more interested in her studies, mainly literature and 
history, with some art and science, and did not really care if she had 
an outbreak of spots, even though her skin never portrayed even a 
slight pimple, or if her long hair was not completely perfect for 
school. In that way she was like Abigail, who was extremely popular in 
her class and the more often she came in without brushing her hair and 
still with mud in her face, the more popular she became. Abigail was a 
bossy child, which was probably why she was popular in her reception 
class, and never hesitated to let her feelings be known, however odd 
they may be. 

“Mummy,” shouted Abigail as she came rushing back up the sand from where
she had been investigating a rock on the water's edge, “look!” and she 
thrust her grubby, sandy little hand towards my nose, opening it and 
revealing a hermit crab. I nodded absentmindedly as I tried to continue 
reading an article in my magazine about how a mother saved her 3 
children from a flood, and then went back to help rescue a further 6 
children from varying neighbours while being 7 months pregnant. 

“Lovely, darling,” I said vaguely. I didn't see her little eyes turn to
slits as she realised her mother was not paying her the attention she 
thought she deserved. 

“Mummy!” she shouted very close to my ear, which, of course, got my full
attention very quickly. 

“Abigail!” I said, using my cross mother's voice, “Do not shout.” 

“But mummy...” 

“Not buts Abigail, now, what is it you want to cause you to shout so


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