Disclaimer: I don't own Phil of the Future. I just love the series!

Father's Day

"CURTIS! No Squirting Ketchup! Pim, help Curtis with the condiments."

"Why do I gotta --"

"Please, Pim."

"(Can't I have any fun?)"

"What was that?"

"Nothin', Pappy. Curtis, maybe I better dress up your burger for you, Buddy."

"But Pim tell Curtis --"

"LA-LA-LAH-LAHH! Clamp it, Caveman. Just climp it."

"Pim certainly has mellowed over the last year of our engagement, Phil."

"And you can tell this how, 'xactly?"

"Easy. There's only catsup on his burger. Not a drop of his own blood. Not even a hint of a threat of amputation."

Keely earned a smile for being witty. As good as the burgers and hot dogs smelled on the Diffys' backyard barbeque, his appetite was only for Keely and she made a point of staying his stomach from grumbling. Their decision to stay in the 21st Century was only surpassed by their decision to become a couple.

"Curtis, those pickles are for everyone. Spit some out!"

"Never mind; he can have my share."

"Ours, too."

"Curtis lucky. Everyone loves Curtis," spouted a nearly weepy Cro-Magnon.

Lloyd announced, "Burgers are ready. Bring you plates. Yes, Curtis, you can have yours first." Maybe it was the male affinity for the BBQ-gene, but Lloyd was actually competent on the outdoor range. Personally, his wife was a little jealous and attributed his success to his lucky apron and lobster claw BBQ mitts. It was just that he was so "Lloyd," going on and on about how great a cook he was when all he was doing was pulling dead ground muscle off the fire before completely cremating it. Barbara Diffy didn't see what the big deal was about or why everyone else uttered such sounds of delight while they chowed down, and did they all have to compliment the cook? Really?

Barbara played with her potato chips. One looked like the spa pool in their old living room, right down to the hole in the middle where the fountain would rise up. Why was nobody touching her potato salad?

Despite this wallowing, everyone was actually in good spirit seated at the the wooden picnic table. Phil, Keely, and Curtis on one side; Pim wedged in between her parental overseers on the opposite side, baring her escape. Good weather for a picnic, promising that Pim would be up to no good later on. She was just on the look out for her next opportunity.

There were a passel of good memories the young lovers had tallied up in the backyard on that picnic table. Homework, a filmed documentary, a double date with Keely's last meddling victims, and then there was their shared attempts to teach Curtis 21st Century etiquette, and here they were making good memories yet again. Speaking of etiquette ...

"Don't wolf down your food like that. Chew! Or it will get caught in your throat and you'll choke to death, Pim. You're just like your father." Pim looked up with doe eyes, begging innocence, but the ketchup running down both corners of her mouth made her appear anything, but. That her mouth didn't possess enough of a cavity for any sort of communication other than gutteral completely melted her attempted snow job. Showing he had evolved, Curtis stuck out his tongue at Pim. She'd get him back for that tonight.

"Who wants to play Twister later?"

"Twister! Twister! Twister! Twist, twist, twist."

"Curtis volunteers," Keely translated needlessly. "Oops." Her phone chimed. "Hi Mom! I'm at Phil's. Why not? WHEN? Oh, o-okay, Mommy. I'll wait for your call. I love you." Keely looked smaller. Phil had been searching her eyes the moment her tone changed; now he offered an arm for support and she collapsed, not melted, into his embrace. His parents now were dealing with Phil's eyes seeking answers from them. Even the remaining diners were in shock.

"Mrs. Diffy? Can I stay overnight? Maybe for a while?"

"You know you don't even have to ask, Keely. What is it?"

"He's back. My dad is back."