To take for granted, as we know, is to accept something or assume without question. The English language is full of terms that we now take for granted without feeling the need to check whence they came from.

The word ‘hat trick’, as anybody who’s played the game will tell you, has its origin in the game of cricket. Apparently, it all started out in days gone by when a new cricket hat was awarded to any player who was able to take three wickets with three consecutive deliveries. Another term seniors tend to take for granted is ‘long in the tooth’. This saying, it appears, is of equestrian origin, having been born in the stables, so to speak.

Horses, it was found, inadvertently let their age slip by opening their mouths and revealing that their gums had receded. So literally straight from the horse’s mouth came the term ‘long in the tooth’. These days of course, the phrase is used to signify anybody (not merely a horse) who is ‘getting on’ in age. “And anybody who doesn’t wish to inadvertently reveal their age would do well to keep their mouth shut,” advises my prankster mate, Barney who, if I’m to be honest, often finds it difficult following his own advice given his own admission that he’s frequently ‘putting my foot in my mouth’.

Anyhow, what got me to revisit this ‘taken for granted’ phrase was a recent conversation with a lady friend, Belinda, mother of two teenage boys, Spencer and Percy (both named after poets Edmund and Shelley respectively). It should come as no surprise, therefore, that Belinda is a writer herself.

Just the other day, she was telling me how virtually impossible it was getting for her to find time to sit down and do her own creative work.

“The boys are 24-hour maintenance,” she said. “From the time they open their eyes to the moment they shut them again at the end of the day it’s one constant demand or the other. Mum this, or mum that ...”

The boys are both training to be divers. Not deep sea but Olympic divers. They’ve got to be driven to their 90-minute training at the crack of dawn, and, while they’re there Belinda has to ‘fly’ back home in the family’s beat-up Holden to get breakfast ready and, while about it, get a load of washing going.

Belinda’s husband, Pete, being a financial banker, sets out in the other family car at the crack of dawn too, to his workplace two hours away and is rarely back home in time for family dinner or, indeed, to see the boys before they ‘retire’ to their rooms. He’s an example of a dad who’s more absent than present.

After breakfast, it’s the drop-them-off drive to school then a quick trip to the supermarket for groceries, then back home to prepare dinner and, in between, make and pack of sandwiches for the boys, for the following day.

“Do you ever get thanked?” asked Barney.

“What?” asked Belinda, round-eyed with surprise, adding, “But seriously, like my own mother used to say, ‘If you’re going to be doing things for others with thanks in mind, you might have a long wait ahead of you’. Sometimes, especially as a mum, you just do it. The fact that the boys lean on me so much is thanks enough.”

Belinda’s insightful remarks reminded me of something I’d only just read. Most children’s questions can be divided into two categories: Questions for Mum; and Questions for Dad. Under ‘Questions for Mum’ can be found examples like: “Have you ironed my shirt?” “Can you help with my homework?” “Can you drive me to a mate’s birthday party?” “What’s for dinner?” “Can spit clean better than water?” “Who is better looking, me or Spencer?” “Where’s the TV remote?” And so on ... Under ‘Questions for Dad’ there is really only one listing: “Where’s mum?”

Kevin Martin is a journalist based in Sydney, Australia.