The Night before 13
ectoBiologist begins pestering turntechGodhead
EB: dude, this is so stupid! he's taking me to the zoo now.
EB: i understand he's just trying to be a good parent and all, but he's getting really annoying.
TG: sounds shitty
TG: try ditching him maybe then hell get the picture
EB: no way dude, that's rude he's my dad. i don't want to ditch him, i mean, i do love him and everything.
TG: then go to the zoo and be the biggest daddys boy in egbert history
EB: yeah, okay, not like i have any other choice.
EB: see you later
TG: adios brochacho
E
B: loser
ectoBiologist ceased pestering turntechGodhead
You log out of pesterchum and flop down on your bed. You just wanted to stay in your room all day, but no. Your dad has to be the best day ever and drag you all over town for your birthday. It wasn't even your birthday yet. That was tomorrow. Why does he always have to make your birthday a huge deal? You couldn't really say no, he took the day off for you and planned this day out to the last second. It's annoying, but thoughtful. You sit up and grab your jacket. It wasn't really hot, but it was windy. In seconds you hear your dad knock on your door. He pokes his head in. He's got a large grin spread across his face. "Time for the zoo!" He says excitedly. You sigh and smile back. "Kay dad, I'm coming." You stand up and take one last good long look at your room. You have a feeling you won't be seeing it in a while.
Hours later
You were tired and wanted to tired from a long day of your dad dragging you everywhere in jumped in your bed and took off your glasses for sleep, but of course you couldn't get any. You hear your dad down stairs, he's making a lot of noise. Why is he still up? You turn to see the time on your clock reads 11:30. Doesn't he have work tomorrow? Or is he going to take another day off for your birthday? You stand up and trudge down the hall to the staircase. You haven't made it to the stairs and you can already smell the disgusting stench of thick chocolate icing and cake batter. You make your way to the kitchen to find it a wreck. The countertop was covered in baking supplies and the sink was filled with dishes. You covered your nose and mouth because the stench was too strong to handle. Your find your dad putting the finishing touches on yet another cake for you.
You walk up behind him to tap his shoulder and gain his attention when suddenly you hear a faint sniffle, followed by a quiet sob come from him. You back away. He hasn't noticed you yet. You feel uneasy inside. You've never heard your father cry before. You quietly walk back to the stairs and retreat to your room. What's wrong with him? Did he notice you not having a good time with him? Are you the one that made him cry like that? You didn't mean to make him cry...you just didn't wanted to stay in your room. Now that you think of it that is pretty selfish. All he wanted is to spend time with you, and you just tried to push him away…
You hear him walking up the stairs and quickly jump into bed covering yourself. You hear your door creak open and him walk in. You close your eyes and listen to the cake platter clink as it hits the surface of your wooden nightstand. You feel the bed sink in as he sits next to you. You almost jump when you feel his hand rest on your shoulder. He plants a small kiss on your forehead as you pretend to sleep. You want to open your eyes and show him you're awake. You want to hug him and tell him you're sorry for making him cry, but you don't. You lie there motionless as he gets up and leaves you to sleep.
As soon as you hear your door click shut you jump up and look at the cake resting on your nightstand. You can tell he worked hard on it. Although you're sick of cake your dad has skills. On it he drew a pretty accurate picture of you completely in icing. It looks delicious, but too good to eat. You take in a deep breath and pick up the cake walking to your fathers room. You stop at the top of the stairs and look through the bars of the railing down to the living room. You find him standing in front of the lit fireplace staring at the picture of your late nanna. You can see he's still crying. Did you really upset him that much?
You walked down the stairs with the cake in your hands, slowly and quietly. You stop behind him. Should you ask him what's wrong, or say sorry? What do you do? He's starting to turn around. You quickly say something without thinking.
"Dad, I got your cake." you say a bit too quickly.
He jumps and at the site of you. His eyes are swollen and puffy.
"John! What are you doing out of bed?" He quickly wipes his eyes and straightens his tie and hat.
"I...uh got your cake." You reply holding it higher for him to see. "Dad, are you okay?" You ask.
He smiles and takes the cake setting on the ground as he kneels, "Yeah..just..I'm just so proud of you." His eyes start watering again.
Oh no, he's crying again quick make him happy. You quickly hug him and repeatedly tell him you're sorry. You feel him pat your back and you hug tighter about to cry yourself. Dave would say something lame about how ironic that is, that you're trying to get him to stop crying by crying, but to be honest you don't care you just don't want your dad so upset. You hear him chuckle.
"John, please calm down. I'm not mad."
You pull back from the hug, but you still have your arms around him, "You're not?" He smiles at you and nods. You wipe your tears and hug him again.
After a very long father son hug, he tells you to go to your room and sleep, but instead you grab the cake and walk to the kitchen. You grab two forks and the both of you then proceed to eat the cake straight off the platter like two girls at a slumber party, and it was the best father son moment you've ever had. You don't even care about the taste you're just glad your dad is happy.
Be Dad
After your boy and you finish off one of your delicious cakes, you walk him up to his room tuck him in and kiss him goodnight. You turn off his light and head down the stairs to your room. You wish you had prepared him more for what's ahead. You're not too sure what's going to happen, but you do know that your lovely mother told you to never tell him. She wanted him to have a good childhood before the "Day of the game" she called it. You don't know what that means, but you kept your word and did not tell him. You just hope that he had a good no the best childhood a kid could have. You walk into the living room and stop in front of the picture of mother. She so lovely in this picture, you don't think it was possible for her to take a bad picture. Every angle of her was good she didn't have a bad side whatsoever. She could be an old lady model if it weren't for the fact modeling focuses on the body and not the actual beauty of a person on the inside.
You take off your hat and smile at her. You relax yourself a bit and, although it might seem weird, you begin to talk to your late mother. You know she can't talk back, but you don't mind carrying on a one-sided conversation.
"Hello, mother." you begin to say, "Tomorrow is John's birthday, and The Day of the Game as you say...I kept my word and haven't told John anything about it, not that I know much about it, but I think, I hope, I have given him a wonderful childhood. Just like you told me to do. Mother, even though I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, please look over John. I love you, and always will." You ended it with that and put your hat back on.
Before going to sleep you brought out John's gifts and scattered them among the house. You brought out the biggest gift of his into the center of the living room. You put a lot of thought into this one. The box to it was nearly as tall as you. You smiled and looked down at the tag on the box. Better write something on it incase something happens and you can't tell him yourself. You've written him many notes to him and not just for the gifts, but incase you can't tell him yourself you've left them in places that he will only be able to find them when he achieves a goal. Like when he was finally tall enough to reach the cookie jar on the counter, you left a note for him in the empty container saying that you were proud. You also left one on top of the fridge and under the safe. You grabbed a pen from the pocket of your shirt and began to write.
You wanted to write something that would motivate him, and you knew exactly what it was going to be. When he read this you wanted him to be motivated enough to do anything. You wanted him to know how proud of him you were. You wanted him to know that he can do anything that he put his mind to. And that's what you put. Starting it with calling him champ and ending it with a simple, but meaningful
I believe in you.