Based off the song He's Mine by Rodney Adkins.
America's finally able to sit after a long hard week, taking a Coke from the fridge he sits in on his favorite chair letting out a thankful sigh. Slowly his head drifts back, ready for a well-deserved nap; he's about asleep when the doorbell rings.
He slowly turns his head towards the door, tempted to just ignore it when he hears the faint voice of someone familiar followed by an angry older voice as the doorbell rings out again. Moaning he forces himself up to answer.
He finds his not just one but four of his sons lined up on his front porch each one with their heads looking down at their feet, along with a much older very annoyed man behind them, "I caught them shooting beer cans down by the river, and this one here was smoking."
He points to South Carolina, before continuing, "They wouldn't speak when spoken to and Sir, I know one belongs to you cause they all started running this way when they saw me coming."
America raises an eyebrow at the man, "Is that so?" He turns to his sons in front of him still all afraid to look up, "Well sir they're all mine." Idaho looks like he's about to cry as America continues, "But my question is why were you on My property?"
Now his sons all look up at the same time with a mix of confusion and surprise that mirrors the older man, "Well…I heard gun shots, that's why."
The young looking father folds his arms, "The River is over 80 yards away from any building or road and it's on private property. So again my question is why did you drag my boys over here?" He turns sideways and motions his sons to enter still watching the red faced man. "Sir let me tell you I'm not one bit surprised by what they were doing; I'm more surprised that someone would try to stop them."
His blue eyes glare at the old man who surprisingly offers a quick apology before retreating to his car and driving off. He closes the door shaking his head at his sons now sitting on the couch almost waiting for him to yell at them.
America sits back down on his chair taking a sip from his Coke before clearing his throat, "So where is my rifle?"
Vermont shifts in his seat, "Still by the river."
They all sit in silence for a moment, "Well then someone needs to go get it, then clean up the beer cans." His sons all nod at once and even he can feel some of the tension, "Is that all?"
This time Montana speaks up, "We're sorry Daddy…We didn't know what to do…we should have answered him…but we didn't want you blamed for what we were doing."
America lets out a chuckle, "Boys, I'll take the blame and you know what I'll claim you every time." He lays his head back smiling, "Cause you're all mine, and I wouldn't have it any other way."