A/N: Pretty pointless, but I liked the idea. Ignore my historical inaccuracies and potentially out of time frame language. If you have any topics you would like to see covered please leave a comment! Been busy but will try and finish my other works soon! Just you wait, just you wait!

But soon his son came to the tender age of 7 and could now be sent away to boarding school. Philip did not want to leave his family. He would miss his mother teaching him piano and playing with his little sister. He and Angelica become very close and Angelica almost seemed sadder he was leaving.

His bags were all packed and in the hallway. He would be leaving tomorrow bright and early. His father was personally going to escort him to his new school. Before this he had been tutored by his mother in piano and a private tutor for everything else. Alexander would always bring Philip into his office and discuss politics and things that made Philip's young mind swim.

"And so, we can see how today there are differing opinions on the financial system," Alexander said looking out a window.

Philip was leaning on his hand and was near to falling asleep.

"Philip, son. Are you listening?" Alexander said. He noticed his son's disinterest. It saddened him that his son didn't find politics interesting but he was only seven after all. Alexander had to be reminded by Eliza that their son was a boy.

"You didn't even start your education or have a work ethic like you do now until you were 10," Eliza reminded him gently.

"You're right. I just want him to be prepared, to have had the chance. I want him to at least have had some exposure, so I can say that I didn't fail him, or send him into this world, without the wits," Alexander said.

"Philip will be just fine," Eliza said.

But now it was his last night. They had eaten a solemn dinner. Alexander beamed at his son, while everyone else was saddened by the inevitable separation come tomorrow.

"Son, come into my office," Alexander said when supper was drawing to a close.

"But, pops I was going to practice piano with my ma," Philip whined a little.

"Philip, do what your father say. I don't believe it will take too long," Eliza said shooting a look at Alexander. A look saying Be brief! Do not take all evening, he is my son too.

"Yes, of course, but a moment. You will have plenty of time to get in a lesson with your mother," Alexander said.

In the same familiar office, Alexander sat down and motioned for his son to stand before him. Alexander held the small boys hands and said, "Son, though it saddens your mother and I to see you leave, I want you to know it is a honor."

"Yes sir," Philip said.

"I never had this chance. Your school is very esteemed, and should provide you with a quality education you deserve, "Alexander said.

"What do you mean you never had the chance?" Philip asked. He knew very little about his father's past and this nugget of information was the most he had received in all his time being alive.

"Nothing important. Nothing for you to worry about Philip. But promise me, you will do your best. That is all I ask of you," Alexander said. Philip noticed his father's eyes were a bit red and wet.

"Do you want my handkerchief?" Philip asked holding his out.

"No Philip, I'm fine. But how did I get a son like you!" Alexander said.

They just stood there for a moment. He had never seen his father like this.

"Now go down to your mother Philip," Alexander said smiling.

"Yes pops," Philip smiled back.

When Philip was 9 years old, he did something that truly brightened Alexander's day. Alexander had been under some stress with Jefferson not listening and himself having a brilliant plan no one would listen to.

Philip was home from boarding school for a short holiday. He sat in his room writing something. He knew it was his birthday, but he also knew he would be celebrating his birthday with his grandfather and aunt Angelica tomorrow. His mother planned a special dinner and was rushing about the house to make Philip's birthday special. Earlier his mother had told him to run along and play while she prepared for that night. Philip was not one for playing. He never was. He was just like his father never knowing when to take a break

"Take a break," Eliza called up the stairs to her husband. He had been in his office since breakfast.

"I am on my way," Alexander called.

"There's a little surprise before supper and it cannot wait," she called

"I'll be there in just a minute, save my plate," he called down the stairs

"Alexander—" she said before she heard his door close

"Okay, okay—" he muttered

"Your son is nine years old today, he has something he'd like to say. He's been practicing all day Philip, take it away—" she said and Alexander saw Philip was standing behind her.

"Yes son?" he asked.

"My name is Philip. I am a poet. I wrote this poem just to show it and I just turned nine. You can write rhymes but you can't write mine!" he said slowly.

Alexander was now kneeling in front of Philip and smiling.

"I practice French and play piano with my mother," Philip continued a bit faster.

"Uh-huh!" Alexander grinned.

"I have a little sister, but I want a little brother," Philip said looking up.

"Okay!"

"My daddy's trying to start America's bank! Un deux trois quatre cinq!" He said in a rush without looking at his paper.

"Bravo!" alexander r said picking up his son.

Alexander always dreamed his son would be a writer. Philip did anything to please his father. That night they were all happy.