A/N First off, I would like to dedicate this chapter to all of you that were disappointed that my other story, A Slice of Life, ended without a Father's Day chapter. For that reason, I dedicate this story to all of you

Next, the restaurant Arnold and Phillip visit in this chapter is fashioned after an old place that seemed to be a birthday rite of passage for kids way back in the day called Chuck E. Cheese. It was a combination pizza restaurant/arcade, with a robotic animal band that would play music and sing songs. I remember it being loud and crowded, with one robotic band member being a huge gorilla that would just stare at you. Honestly, it gave me the creeps.

On a final note, I'm going to take a bit of a break to work on a small side story that I've been shying away from because I didn't think I could pull it off. Well, I've now decided to throw caution to the wind and give it a shot. So if you don't see this story being updated for a while don't worry, I'm NOT abandoning it. In the meantime, while you wait, is there anything you'd like to see addressed in this story before it ends? To make up for me putting off the next chapter, you will find that this chapter is an extra-long one. So grab your favorite drink, sit back, and enjoy.

As Time Goes By

Chapter 33

Phillip quietly descends his bedroom staircase, being extra careful not to make any noise. He is closely followed by Agnes, her soft grunts causing the boy to stop mid descent. Placing a finger to his lips, he shushes the pig. "Quiets, Agnes, do you wants to wakes Daddee ups before we can makes him him's bweakfast?"

His question goes unanswered as the pig just stares up at him with apathetic eyes. Once the boy feels that Agnes has gotten the message, he continues on down the staircase. He carries with him a piece of construction paper that has been cut into the shape of a necktie. Glued to it are small pieces of colored paper that are scattered about in no particular pattern. On the flip side, scrawled in typical four-year-old handwriting, is a message that reads "Happy Father's Day. Love, Phillip."

He also carries with him an envelope, the contents of which consists of a list of things for the two of them to do together in order for Arnold to have the most "Perfect Father's Day Ever".

Once in the upstairs hallway, he stops at his parent's bedroom door and listens for any sounds of movement. Wanting to be sure that his dad is indeed asleep, he cracks open the door and tiptoes inside. He quietly crosses the small sitting room to the inner bedroom. The first thing he sees is his mother. She is on her side and faces towards him, her hands tucked comfortably under her pillow. He next notices his father's arm that is draped snuggly across his wife's torso, his face buried deep into her tousled hair.

Satisfied with his findings, he tiptoes back out of the room, closing the door with a typical preschooler's lack of grace. The noise that the door makes catches Helga's motherly ears, and she slowly opens her eyes. She listens for a moment, wondering if the sound was part of whatever dream it was that she was in the middle of. When she fails to hear a second sound, she closes her eyes once again and rests with one ear on high alert now, ready to pick up on any further disturbance in the Force.

Phillip makes his way down the main staircase, bypassing the last step with a jump, and heads into the kitchen. Placing the card and gift on the table, he pulls a chair up to one of the kitchen counters, and reaches for the toaster, pulling it closer to him while Agnes positions herself under him, ready to snatch up any spilled food. The next thing he sees is the old-fashioned bread box. It's an old relic that has seen the Shortman family through multiple generations and is just as much a part of the family as Arnold himself.

Opening it up, he spies a half finished loaf of wholegrain wheat bread, and scrunches his nose up at it. He thinks about the dry, stiff texture that his parents seem to prefer, and lets out with a quiet, "yuck". He bypasses the wheat bread for the much softer white, which is his bread of choice. If his mother had had her way, he would be forced to eat his sandwiches on the same, dry wheat bread as his parents. But after many months of battle, Helga figured that it wasn't worth her son ending up with food anxieties. So she instead let him have his white bread, while making up for the nutritional loss through a variety of other foods.

He grabs the pillowy goodness with a smile, and removes it from the box. It takes a moment for him to wrestle with the twisty tie that holds the bag shut before he is able to remove two slices of bread. Through his over eagerness, he squeezes the slices a bit harder than necessary, causing one of his fingers to poke through the bread's soft center without him realizing it.

He places the two slices into the toaster, and, as he has seen his mother do on many occasions, he fiddles with the temperature gauge, before pushing down on the lever. He's not really sure why Helga always checks the little dial before starting the toaster, and he is unaware that he has set the timer for much longer than is needed.

With the bread tucked snugly in the toaster, Phillip climbs down from the chair and heads for the refrigerator. He is unable to find the butter and figures that they are out, so he grabs the chair he was using to reach the countertop, and drags it to the fridge. Climbing up, he opens the freezer and grabs a fresh stick of frozen butter. He also sees a couple of overripe bananas that Helga was saving for the next time she decided to make banana bread, and he grabs one of them too. Climbing off the chair, he takes the butter and blackened banana to the table, then pushes the chair back to the kitchen counter. Climbing up once again, he opens a cupboard and grabs his favorite Thomas plate and cup. After placing them next to the frozen butter, he puts the banana on it then grabs a few small oranges from the fruit bowl. They are the small, easy peel, kid size ones that are popular with all the other preschoolers.

He takes one now and digs his thumbnail deep into the fruit's skin. He punctures not only the rough outer peel, but also the juicy flesh of the citrus, causing its sweet juice to run down his hand. He works at peeling the orange, picking off small pieces at a time. He drops the bits of skin onto the table, with only a piece or two finding their way into the cup. Once the orange is free of its skin, Phillip squeezes it between both of his hands, and is successful in getting most of the juice and a couple of small seeds into the cup. As he works on the second orange, his nose picks up the scent of something burning, and he turns just in time to see two blackened pieces of bread pop up out of the toaster.

With sticky fingers, he pushes his chair back to the counter and grabs the charred bits out of the appliance. The bread is hot to the touch and he drops both pieces onto the floor. He gives his hands a shake as he jumps off the chair, and picks up the toast. Placing the two pieces onto the seat of the chair, he pushes it back to the table and the waiting Thomas plate. Climbing back onto the chair, he picks up the cooled pieces of toast and places them on the plate. When he goes to butter them he realizes that he has forgotten a knife and he shimmies off the chair.

He walks to the drawer that holds the silverware, and grabs a plastic kid's spreader. Taking it back to the table, he once again climbs onto the chair and grabs the butter. He tries to slice off a piece from the frozen stick and finds it hard to push the spreader through it. He uses the spreader as a saw and slowly works his way through the frozen brick. Once the implement finally works its way through the stick, he takes the sawed off bit of butter and puts it on one of the pieces of burned toast. He does his best to spread the butter but the best he can do is to get the frozen slab to roll about, covering itself in crumbs as it further widens the hole that his finger had made.

Giving up, he pushes the toast aside and goes back to squeezing his oranges. This time as the juice drips into the cup it takes the toast crumbs from Phillip's hands along with it, leaving them to float about along with the bits of peel.

Once his father's breakfast is complete, he rummages through the kitchen cabinets, looking for a tray so he can carry it all upstairs. The noise he makes flows up the staircase to the ears of his sleeping mother. Her eyes spring open at the first sound of metal crashing against metal and she casts her eyes to the bedside clock, taking note of the time. With her husband still sound asleep next to her, she wonders just what her son is doing at such an ungodly hour of the morning, and she reluctantly pushes herself out of bed.

Sliding her feet into a pair of slippers, she shuffles down the staircase in the direction of the noise. She stops in the doorway and takes in the scene that is spread out before her. She looks at the table, noticing the small puddles of orange juice that blend with the stray bits of peel and toast crumbs. As she enters the kitchen she passes the stick of butter that has begun to thaw out. The stick is dotted with blackened bits of overcooked bread, and the spreader that Phillip was using sticks partway out of it. Wet, sticky fingerprints do not go unnoticed as she passes the chair that Phillip was using, while on her way to the kitchen counter. Picking up the opened loaf of bread, she replaces the twisty tie while talking to her son who is shoulder deep in one of the bottom cabinets.

"Hey there, Phillip, whatcha doing?"

Phillip backs out of the cabinet, and seeing his mother, he gives her a big smile. "Oh, hi Mommee. I's making Daddee bweakfast for father's day."

She places the bread back into its box and squats down next to her son. "Oh, I see. So what are you looking for now?"

Phillip leans back into the cabinet. "I's looking for something to puts Daddee's bweakfast on so's I can takes it upstairs and surprise him." Finding what he's looking for, he backs out of the cabinet once again. "Do you thinks he'll be's surprised?"

Helga gives him a smile and nods her head. "Oh, he's going to be surprised alright."

Standing up, Phillip carries the tray to the table. "Oh, good, I weally wants him to be's surprised."

The boy places Arnold's breakfast onto the tray, adding his gift and card along with it. Helga grabs a napkin, adding it to the tray. Her son's thoughtful actions mimic those of her husband's so closely that she can't help but to let out a small sigh.

He struggles a bit when he picks up the tray, and she quickly takes it from him in an effort to avoid any catastrophe. "Here, Phillip, let me carry this upstairs for you."

He grabs the card and envelope and rushes off ahead of his mother. "Okay's, Mommee!"

Phillip beats her to the bedroom and rushes over to where is dad lays oblivious to what is about to happen. With a jump Phillip lands on the bed, his right knee landing hard onto his father's stomach. Arnold is startled awake, and bolts upright while holding his sore stomach. "Ouch! What is it? What's wrong? What's going on?"

His eyes eventually land on his son's smiling face. "Good morning, Daddee! Happy Father's Day!"

Finally realizing what's going on, Arnold smiles at the boy while rubbing his stomach. "Oh, thank you, Phillip." He glances at the bedside clock. "How nice of you to get up so early just to wish me a happy father's day."

Phillip shakes his head. "I didn't gets up just for that, I mades you bweakfast too!"

As if on cue, Helga enters the bedroom with Arnold's breakfast. "That's right, Arnold, Phillip got up all by himself just to make you breakfast." She puts the tray on his lap and gives him a look that says for him to play along. "Wasn't that thoughtful of him?"

Arnold looks from Helga, to the food on his tray and his stomach gives a small churn. At the sound of his wife clearing her throat, he finally addresses his son. "Oh, yes, that was very thoughtful of you, Son. Thank you very much."

Phillip proudly puffs out his chest. "I mades it all bys m myself with no helps from Mommee." He looks from the tray to his dad. "Go aheads and have somes."

Helga tries unsuccessfully to hide a giggle. "Yeah, Arnold, go ahead, have some."

He flashes her a dirty look before putting a smile back on his face. "Oh, well, this all looks so delicious. I'd hate to eat it all for myself, perhaps your mother would like some too."

Helga opens her eyes wide at his comment, but is saved when Phillip shakes his head. "No, Daddee, Mommee can makes her own. This is for just you cause of Father's Day."

Arnold ignores his wife's giggle as he relents and he tries to decide which item on the tray is the least objectionable. "Passing over the black banana, he picks up the cup of fresh squeezed juice and notices the bits of crumbs and peel that float about in it. Putting it back down on the tray, he settles on the burnt toast and takes a bite out of one corner. As he bites down the piece snaps off as a sprinkling of crumbs shower down onto the tray. "Mmmm," He says as he chews, "this toast certainly is delicious."

Happy with his father's response, he hands Arnold the card and envelope that he had been holding. "Here, Daddee, I has a gift for you, too."

Arnold looks at the card first and reads it out loud. "Happy Father's Day. Love, Phillip. Hey, that's pretty good, did you write that all by yourself?"

Phillip nods his head. "Yep, Miss Francine wroted the words down on a piece of paper but I copied them all bys myself."

"Well you did a very good job, I love it." Arnold places the card down and picks up the envelope. "Hmmm, I wonder what this could be."

Phillip bounces on his knees, causing a bit of juice to splash out of the cup and onto the charred bread. As Arnold pulls the letter out of the envelope Phillip moves in closer and points to what it says. "It's a list of all the things we cans do together, just me and you. I toldded Miss Francine what I wanted and she wrote it down for me."

Arnold nods his head as he reads. "Oh, really now. Let's see what it says. My List For The Best Father's Day Ever. Number 1, Breakfast in bed. Well you've done that. What's next? Number 2, Spend the morning playing at the park. I think we can handle that. Number 3, Have lunch at Chunky Cheeser's." Arnold's stomach gives another churn at the thought of greasy pizza and screaming kids. "Chunky Cheese huh? You sure you wouldn't rather get hamburgers or something?

Phillip adamantly shakes his head. "Nope, it's gots be Chunky Cheeser's cause I has leftover tokens for you so you can plays all the games."

Unable to disappoint the boy, Arnold reluctantly goes on. "Oh, well if you say so, Phillip. Lets see, what's next on the list." Arnold gets a bit nervous at the next one, "Number 3, Ice skating at Frozen City ice rink." He tries to remember when the last time was that he went ice skating. "And finally, Number 4, Frog and tadpole hunting at City Park Lake. Oh, I bet your Uncle Sid would like to come along for that."

Again Phillip shakes his head. "No, Daddee, remembers, this is just for you and me."

"Oh, that's right, I forgot. Well this sounds like quite the busy day, but first you'd better get dressed and have some breakfast while I stay here and finish mine. Then we can get ready to go. How does that sound?"

Eager to start the day, Phillip scrambles off the bed and heads towards the bedroom door. "Okays Daddee, I'll hurries so we don't wastes any time."

When he's gone Arnold grabs the breakfast tray and gets out of bed. He starts to leave the room when he's stopped by Helga. "And just where do you think you're going with that?"

"To the kitchen. I'm hoping to dispose of it before Phillip finishes getting dressed."

"You mean you're not going to eat it?"

"Oh, come on, Helga, you don't really expect me to eat this, do you? I mean, I love Phillip for it, but I'm sure you don't want me to end up at the hospital having my stomach pumped, right?"

Helga takes another look at the contents on the tray and finds that she has to agree with her husband. "Okay, you win, but hurry up and make sure you completely dispose of it so Phillip is none the wiser. Oh, and put that banana back in the freezer, I still need it for my banana bread."

With a nod of his head, Arnold quickly heads for the kitchen. Putting the banana back in the freezer, he crumbles all but one small piece of the toast into the garbage disposal and turns it on. Pouring out the juice, he rinses the cup just as Phillip enters the kitchen. Turning around, he picks up the bit of toast he left on the counter, and makes sure that Phillip sees him pop it into his mouth. "Mmm, that sure was a yummy breakfast. Thank you, Phillip."

Phillip runs up to his dad, and gives him a big hug. "You're welcome, Daddee. I hope you liked it as much as Mommee liked the one I mades her for Mother's Day."

Helga pours out two mugs of coffee, handing one to her husband. "Oh, I'm sure he did. Now, lets get some breakfast in you before you and daddy start your day." She turns to look at Arnold. "And if you have any room left, I can cook up an egg or two for you too if you want."

Sending Helga a silent thank you with his eyes, Arnold takes his coffee over to the table and sits down next to Phillip. "Actually, I think some scrambled eggs is the perfect thing to follow the wonderful breakfast that Phillip made me. Right, son?"

Distracted with his favorite Thomas toy, Phillip gives his shoulders a shrug. "Whatever you says, Daddee."

xxxxx

Arnold pulls the Packard into the parking lot of City Park, just as the last bit of early morning fog burns away under the bright June sun. While Phillip works at unbuckling himself from his car seat, Arnold takes the opportunity to walk around to the back of the car. Unlocking the trunk, he lifts the lid and reaches in to gather up the T-ball set that Phillip had received last Christmas from his Aunt Phoebe and Uncle Gerald.

He slings a small bag of white Whiffle balls over his shoulder while sticking the plastic bat under one arm. Grabbing onto the Tee, he returns to Phillip just as he shimmies out of the back seat. "Make sure you shut the car door tight, Philly Boy."

Phillip grabs the door with both hands and pushes it as hard as he can. "Okays, Daddee."

It's still pretty early to be up and out for a Sunday morning, and they find that save for a random jogger or two, they have the park pretty much to themselves. They stroll along a winding path that cuts through the park, with Phillip running ahead every now and then to chase a zig-zagging dragonfly, or to break up an unsuspecting flock of grazing pigeons.

When they reach the open ball field at the park's far end, Arnold takes their equipment over to the home plate and sets up the Tee while Phillip does a quick run around the bases. Once the plastic ball is in place, he calls out and motions for his son to come join him. "Hey, Phillip, you ready to play?"

As Phillip rounds first base for the second time, he hangs a sharp left and joins his father. "Here I is, Daddee."

It amazes Arnold that even after all that running, the boy is barely out of breath, and he thinks about all those long summers as a kid, running for hours with hardly breaking a sweat. "Okay, Son, lets see what you've got. I'll go stand out by the pitcher's mound, and then I want you to try and hit the ball as hard as you can. Now remember to keep your eye on the ball like your Uncle Gerald told you."

"I will, Daddee!" Phillip says as he swings the bat forward, missing the ball and catching Arnold smack dab in the middle of his chest.

"Hey!" Arnold yells. "Not so fast, Phillip, wait until I'm out of the way."

Phillip watches his father's expression, making sure that he's not in any trouble. "I's sowwy, Daddee. It was a ackcident."

Walking away, Arnold makes sure that he's out of harms reach before stopping and facing his child. "It's okay, Phillip. Now, give it your best shot."

Keeping his eye on the ball, Phillip's tongue sticks out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates. He pulls the bat backwards, then closes his eyes tightly as he swings it forward, missing the ball entirely. Arnold sees this and points out the boy's mistake. "No, Phillip, you have to keep your eyes open and look at the ball. Try it again."

Phillip tightens his grip on the bat and brings it up to his shoulder once more. Again his tongue comes out to help him concentrate. This time his eyes never leave their target, but instead of swinging at the ball, he moves his arms in more of a chopping motion. The bat brushes along the side of the ball, causing it to drop down and land right next to the Tee.

Seeing that his son could use some guidance, Arnold runs up behind him to help. "Here, Phillip, let me show you how to properly hold the bat." He reaches around him and corrects his hand placement. "See, you hold it like this, then swing it first backwards then forward like this. You want to give it another try?"

Phillip nods his head and doesn't wait for his father to run back to the pitcher's mound. With Arnold still behind him he swings the bat backwards as hard as he can, this time it connects with the man's sensitive nether regions. Arnold doubles over with a loud "OOF!"

Much to his delight, Phillip has managed to actually hit the ball, and he points to it as it lands at the pitcher's mound with a bounce. He jumps up and down as he points to where the ball landed. "Look, Daddee, I hits the ball!"

Still a bit out of breath, Arnold limps over to where the ball landed. "I see that, Phillip. Nice work."

The game continues on until for a good hour until Phillip's stomach gives out a loud rumble. Putting the bat down, he walks over to a bench and sits down. He's quickly joined by his father. "What's the matter, Phillip? Have you had enough?"

Phillip nods his head. "Yeah, I's hungwy. Can we go has lunch now?"

Arnold looks at his watch and decides that he could go for an early lunch too. "Okay, I don't see why not. Where do you want to go?"

Phillip looks at him like he can't believe that Arnold would ask such a question. "You know where, to Chunky Cheeser's like the lists says."

Arnold had forgotten about the list and its promise of greasy pizza and screaming kids. "Oh, yeah, I guess I forgot. Are you sure you want Chunky Cheeser's and not something else?"

Phillip shakes his head. "Nope, it's gots to be Chunky Cheeser's so you can use the tokens that I've saveded for you."

Defeated, Arnold gets up from the bench. "Okay then, Chunky Cheeser's it is. Help me bring this stuff to the car and I guess we'll head on over."

xxxxx

As they pulls into the small parking lot just outside of their next destination, Arnold is surprised to see it so full. It is his guess that he's not the only one that was surprised with a trip to the popular pizza spot. His suspicions are confirmed when they enter the building. The first thing to hit him is the noise. So. Much. Noise. They arrived at the height of the Chunky Cheeser's Ragtime Band's grand finale, and he watches as an array of human sized mechanical animals move about as they play a plethora of musical instruments. The tinny sound of the music, mixed with the robotic movements of the animals sends a shiver down Arnold's spine as a scene from a popular online jump scare game flashes through his head. The slightly out of tune music mixes with the sounds of overly excited children and he remembers how much he would look forward to coming to this place when he and the rest of the gang were kids. In addition to the out of tune music are the blaring bells and whistles from every kind of arcade game imaginable, making Arnold feel as if he is about to step into the very bowels of Hell.

He scans the room for an empty table, taking note of the hopeless expressions on the other father's faces. He makes eye contact with one man, the anguished look on his face pleading with Arnold to save himself and leave before it's too late, and he should suffer the same fate that the rest of them have. Arnold is about to take heed of the poor man's warning and turn around, when he feels Phillip rush past him to claim one of the last empty tables as theirs.

With no hope of backing out now, Arnold puts on a happy façade and reluctantly follows his son to a crumb filled table right next to the stage. Sitting down, he looks up to the now silent performers, and into the menacing glare of a keyboard playing gorilla. He remembers that look from years gone by and thinks it just as intimidating as ever.

His concentration is broken when a bedraggled waitress walks up to take their order. "Welcome to Chunky Cheesers, where fun is our middle name. What can I get for you today?"

It takes a second for Arnold to process the question. "Oh, uh, I don't know. Hey Phillip, what do you want for lunch?"

Phillip bounces excitedly in his chair as he answers. "I wants a cheese pizza and root beers."

He gives the boy a nod and turns back to the waitress. "I guess we'll take a medium cheese pizza and two root beers please."

The waitress goes into the upgrade spiel that is required of all wait staff. "Would you like to add an order of Chunky's world famous cheesy breadsticks?"

Arnold gives a quick shake of his head. "No, that's okay, just the pizza and sodas."

Once their order is placed, Phillip is eager to hit the arcade. "Come on, Daddee, let's go play some games."

Phillip jumps from his chair and runs off before Arnold has a chance to reply, so, keeping his eye trained on his son, he follows him through the noisy restaurant to the arcade. They end up at a row of Skee-ball lanes that are lined up against a back wall. Digging through his pocket, Phillip grabs a handful of the tokens he has been saving for this very day. A couple tokens fall to the worn out carpet as Phillip struggles with his bounty.

Reaching down, Arnold picks up the rogue coins and drops them into the coin slot. He pushes a button which causes a line of balls to appear as if out of nowhere. "There ya go, Phillip, why don't you go first."

Eager to play, Phillip shoves the coins back into his pocket and grabs his first ball. Taking careful aim, he rolls it up the lane. He doesn't use enough force, and the ball stops just short of the playing field and ends up rolling back down to the boy.

Arnold picks up the ball and hands it back to his son. "Here, Phillip, try again only this time give it all your might."

Not one to be discouraged so easily, Phillip takes the ball and this time he doubles the force behind his throw. He is successful in actually making it onto the playing field, and gives a jump for joy when it rolls into a ten point hole. "Yay! I did its, Daddee!"

"You sure did, Phillip. Go ahead and try again. This time try to make it into the middle hole."

Phillip aims, but is unable to control the course of the ball and it once again ends up only gaining him ten more points. After a few more tries he grows bored of the game and hands the last ball to Arnold. There is a familiarity to the time worn sphere as it sits in Arnold's hands, and he again thinks about the days when he himself couldn't wait to play these very games.

Arnold lines up the ball with the 100 point hole. "You know, Phillip, I used to be pretty good at this game. As a matter of fact it was actually one of my favorites." His aim is dead on and the ball hits the bullseye, causing the digit counter to jump ahead 100 points.

Phillip watches the tickets as they spew out from the ticket slot, he has suddenly gained a renewed interest in the game. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two more tokens. "Here, Daddee, do it again!"

Happy in the fact that he hasn't lost his touch, Arnold happily accepts the coins and feeds them to the machine. Once the balls are in place, he repeats his perfect throw five more times, with Phillip dancing about as the mound of tickets grows ever taller.

When all of Phillip's coins are exacerbated, and the last ball is thrown, father and son take their bounty to the ticket counter to claim their hard earned prize. The attendant motions to the shelf of prizes that Phillip can choose from, and the boy settles on a small, tin harmonica that he claims is just like the one his daddee plays.

Phillip blows out an off key tune as they head back to their table where they find their lunch waiting for them. By now the robotic band has resumed playing its tinny music which Phillip happily plays along with on his new harmonica. It takes some coaxing from Arnold to get Phillip to eat his lunch, but eventually the boy gets enough down to fill his belly. By now the band has stopped playing and Phillip has grown bored so, shoving his harmonica into his pocket, he heads off to the ball pit while Arnold finishes his lunch.

Arnold drains the last bit of soda from his cup and is about to go looking for his son when the boy comes walking up to him. He is crying uncontrollably and it takes a moment for Arnold to calm him down. "Phillip, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Here, take a seat and try to calm down, and tell Daddy what's wrong."

After another minute of anguished wails, Phillip speaks to his father through shuddered breath. "I-i-it's m-m-my new toyyyy! I luh-losted it in the b-ball pit!"

Arnold takes a napkin and wipes at the boy's eyes. "Okay, calm down. Are you sure its lost?"

"Yuh-yes, I hads it in my pocket when I went into the pit, and n-now it's goooone!"

"Okay, don't worry, we can see if we can get you a new one."

Phillip repeatedly shakes his head. "N-noooo! I wants the one that you wons for meeee!"

"But, Phillip –"

"NOOOO! It's gots to be the one you wons!"

"Okay, come on, lets see if you can try to find it again."

The two walk over to the crowded ball pit, and Arnold does his best to coax Phillip back in. "Here, why don't you go back to the spot where you were playing and try to find it again."

Phillip shakes his head. "No, Daddee, I's alweady tried. I wants you to try."

Arnold looks at the crowded den of germs and tries to come up with an excuse not to go in. "No, Phillip, I can't. I'm way too big to be in the ball pit. Besides, I don't think adults are allowed in anyway."

The minute Phillip begins to cry once more, Arnold knows that his fate is sealed. "No, Daddee, I twied and I can't finds it. You has to do it for me."

His heart goes out to the child whose only wish was for his father to have the best day ever, and he becomes resigned to his fate. He looks around to make sure that no employees are watching, and climbs headfirst into the pit. The first thing that hits his senses is a combined scent of old plastic, sweat and, is that, urine? Doing his best to keep his face away from the colored balls, he crawls over to the spot where Phillip is pointing. When there he pushes his hands down to the bottom of the pit and begins fishing around. He does all he can to dodge a multitude of balls as they are flung about the pit, some of which he is sure are purposely directed right at him. After a bit of searching his hand touches something long and hard, and he grabs onto it. He pulls his hand out of the balls and holds up the treasure, only to find it to be an old, hardened piece of pizza crust.

With wide eyes, he throws it down and heads for the door of the pit. As he climbs out of the structure he comes face to face with one of the establishment's employees, who informs him that the ball pit is for children only, and not meant for adults.

Embarrassed, he does his best to avoid the stares he is getting as he takes the walk of shame back to his son. He is reluctant to have to give the boy the bad news that he was unable to find his toy. "I'm sorry, Phillip, but I'm afraid that I was unable to find your harmonica."

Phillip looks up to his father with a large smile on his face. "That's okays, Daddee, it wasn't in the ball pit after alls. I was looking in the wrong pocket, see, here it is in this one."

xxxxx

Arnold kneels at Phillip's feet as he secures a pair of rented ice skates onto them. Skating has always been a fun pastime for him, and he is actually looking forward to getting out on the ice. As for Phillip, he has only been ice skating a few times, but Arnold thinks that this will be a great opportunity for the boy to get some practice in.

He holds onto his son's hand as they walk over to the ice, and he shares with him some wizened bits of knowledge. "Now remember, the key is to find your center of gravity and distribute your weight evenly onto your feet. Also, be sure to pay close attention to your surroundings, you don't want to be running into people and knocking them down."

"I knows." Phillip says as he takes that first step onto the ice.

He's a bit wobbly at first, and Arnold steadies him until he finds his balance. Once he feels that his son is secure on his feet, he lets go. The minute Phillip feels the release of his father's grip, he pushes off and dashes to the center of the rink with a shocked Arnold trailing closely behind. "Phillip, wait, slow down. You're going too fast!"

Arnold forgets his own words of advice and doesn't pay attention to his surroundings as he chases after his son. With his eyes glued to Phillip he doesn't notice that he is about to bisect the path of a pair of racing speed skaters. He catches them out of the corner of his eye at the last minute and through pure shock, he abruptly stops, blocking their path. In an effort to avoid collision, the pair splits off, each going around opposite sides of Arnold, before continuing on, but not before letting out with a few choice words directed his way.

Once Arnold has regathered his wits, he notices that Phillip is no longer where he was and he scans the ice for him. He sees the boy as he speeds towards an elderly couple that skates hand in hand with their backs towards him. Arnold once again yells out, sure that the boy is about to take the pair out at the knees, when Phillip cuts a sharp right and skates around them.

Relieved, Arnold heads towards his son while calling out his name. The words catch Phillip's ear and he turns around and waves at his dad. Arnold motions for the boy to come to him and Phillip quickly obliges. Taking off like a torpedo shot from its chute, Phillip makes a beeline towards his dad. In his enthusiasm, Phillip finds that he is going faster than intended, and doesn't know how to stop himself. He rushes towards his father's outstretched arms, and he stops skating the only way he can think of, which is to sit down. Plopping down onto the ice at the last second, he plows into his dad as if he were a bowling ball that is going for 7-10 split. He catches Arnold at the outside of his ankle, dropping the man hard onto the ice.

Thinking that that was the most fun he's had in a long time, Phillip stands up and gives his hands a clap. "Oh boy, that was fun! Wasn't that fun, Daddee?"

It takes a moment for Arnold to get to his feet, and, once up, he finds that he has sprained his right ankle. Wondering when it was that he reached the point in his life that a mere slip on the ice could set him back for weeks, Arnold slowly limps towards the outer edge of the ice. "Oh yeah, that was tons of fun. Tell you what, why don't you take another spin or two around the rink while Daddy sits over there and watches. Okay?"

Happy to get to spend more time skating, Phillip quickly takes off. "Okays, Daddee!"

Arnold hobbles over to a small set of bleachers and sits down. He takes his skates off and rubs his sore ankle while keeping a watchful eye on his son. He studies the boy as he glides around the rink, as if he's been taking lessons for years, and credits the boy's natural talent to his wife. As kids, Helga was always exceeding most of the other children's abilities whenever it came to athletics, and it wasn't until he finally out ranked her in size and strength that he could ever get the upper hand on her. Even Harold, with his advanced age and size, couldn't compete with Helga when she really put her mind to it.

As he sits, he starts to realize just how exhausting the day has been so far, and mentally runs over Phillip's list in his head. The only thing left to do is to head back to City Park for a bit of tadpole hunting before finally heading back home, a task that he is sure he will be able to be accomplished without incident.

After a bit of a rest, Arnold gathers up the little bit of energy he has left, and walks over to the side of the rink. He sees Phillip at the far end of the ice and watches as he skates about in a small circle over and over again. He is careful to stay on the line that he has made on the ice, so that it gets just a little deeper with each passing revolution. He only stops when he hears his name being called from the other end of the rink. Looking up, he sees his dad's waving arms and, forgetting all about the circle he was making, heads towards his father.

As Arnold waits, he is passed by the pair of speed skaters whose path he had interrupted earlier on. As before, they spew out a few choice words for Arnold in passing, and laugh as they continue on their way. Once Phillip has reached his dad, the two head towards the lockers, while in the background the pair of speed skaters are thrown abruptly to the ice when the blades of their skates get stuck in the groove of Phillip's abandoned circle.

xxxxx

It's the middle of the afternoon by the time our two men make it back to City Park, and the parking lot is completely full. After two spins around the lot it is clear to Arnold that there is nothing available, and that they are going to have to park out on the street and hoof it into the park on his sore ankle.

After a bit of driving, they eventually find a spot a good two blocks from the park. When they get out of the car, Arnold hands Phillip a couple of fishing nets while he carries a small plastic jar for holding onto any tadpoles they might be lucky enough to catch. Arnold limps along, favoring his sore foot while Phillip animatedly talks next to him. "Do you thinks we'll have any luck catching tadpoles, Daddee?"

Arnold gives a little shrug. "I don't see why not, there's a lot more shade now than there was this morning, so we have that on our side."

"Do you thinks we'll finds any bullfrogs?"

"Oh, I don't know about that. Those guys can be pretty tricky to catch."

"Maybe we shoulda askeded Uncle Sid if he wanted to come catch bullfrogs with us."

"Oh, well, I don't think he would have been able to come even if he wanted too."

Phillip looks up to his father with a furrow to his eyebrows. "Whys not? Woulds Miss Jackie not lets him come?"

Arnold lets out a small chuckle. "No, Phillip, that's not the reason."

"Then whys not?"

"Because, it's Father's Day, remember? I'm sure he's busy spending the day with his own dad."

Phillip thinks about it for a moment. "You means he wents to Chunky Cheeser's too?"

Arnold's chuckle becomes a full laugh. "No, I doubt they went to Chunky Cheeser's. I'm sure they probably just celebrated at home with a bar-b-que or something."

They've reached the entrance to the park now, and Arnold can see just why there were no parking spots left in the lot. It looks to Arnold as if half the families in Hillwood have decided to celebrate Father's Day at the park, and the air is filled with the combined smell of hot charcoal briquettes and grilled meats. His stomach lets out with a loud growl, telling him that he really should have eaten more pizza at lunch, even if the crust did taste like cardboard.

Ignoring his growling stomach for the time being, he continues to limp along side of Phillip as they make their way to the small, shaded lake. Once they have reached their destination he motions for Phillip to sit down on one of the many rocks that line the bank of the lake. The boy chooses a flat rock that is shaded by a large oak tree, and sits down. Sitting next to him, Arnold helps him remove his shoes before rolling up the legs of his jeans. "We don't want to go back home covered in muddy lake water, right, Son?"

Phillip shakes his head. "Oh, no's, Mommee wouldn't like it if we gots the carpets all dirty with mud."

Arnold quickly agrees with the boy. "No, I don't think she'd be too happy if we did that."

Once both their shoes are off and their pant legs are successfully out of harms reach, Arnold gives Phillip his instructions. "Here now take this smaller net, and stand back a bit from the water. You don't want the tadpoles to see you or they might get scared away. If you find a tadpole move very slowly, okay?"

Phillip is taking the hunt very seriously, and he doesn't speak above a whisper. "Okays, Daddee, I'll be verwy carefuls."

Arnold stands behind the boy, peering over his shoulder, and scans the bank for any movement. They both spy a large tadpole at the same time and, forgetting about being stealthy, Phillip throws all caution to the wind and lunges for the creature. The net he is holding hits the water hard, causing it to splash up into his face. Shaking off the murky droplets, he holds up the empty net. "Aww, shucks, I misseded it."

Arnold gives him a reassuring pat on his shoulder. "That's because you moved too fast, but it's okay. I'm sure that if we just wait a minute or two another one will come along."

Not letting himself get discouraged, Phillip squats down, being sure not to lean too far over the water so he won't be seen. Like Arnold said, it only takes a few minutes for a few more tadpoles to come out of hiding. This time Arnold whispers his directions out to the boy. "Oaky, Phillip, remember, slow and steady wins the race. Take your time and slowly bring up the net."

"Okays, Daddee." Phillip whispers back while keeping his eyes on his target. Moving as slow as an excited four-year-old can, he brings up the net and slowly moves it down to the water. At the last minute he quickly dips it into the lake and scoops it back up. He holds his catch up for Arnold to see while excitedly jumping up and down. "I gots one! I gots one!"

Arnold grabs the jar he brought with him and fills it with lake water. "Nice work, Phillip, I knew you could do it!"

Phillip lets the tadpole go into the jar, and he watches it swim about in the murky water. "I can'ts believe that I actually caught one. Look at it swim around."

Arnold takes the jar from Phillip and holds it up. "Say, that's a big one. I think you might have yourself a bullfrog tadpole there."

"Oh boys, a bullfrogs! Can we catch another?"

Arnold nods his head. "Sure, we can try to get a few more. It will be fun to watch them as they turn into frogs."

"You means turn into bullfrogs!"

"Yes, that's right, bullfrogs."

They spend the next hour or so in pleasant, father/son conversation as their collection of tadpole's increases. It isn't until Phillip spies a very large, very slippery bullfrog sunning himself on a rock about six feet in front of them. He pulls on Arnold's pant leg to get his attention. "Daddee, look over there. That's gots to be the biggest bullfrog I's ever seen."

Arnold looks in the direction of Phillip's outstretched hand and lets out a low whistle. "Wow, you can say that again, Philly Boy. I don't know if I've ever seen a frog that big myself. Your Uncle Sid's prize frog wasn't even that big."

Phillip lowers his voice back down to a whisper. "Can we tries to catch him?"

Arnold gives an unsure shake of his head. "I don't know, Phillip. He's pretty far out, and the bottom of this lake is pretty slippery. I don't know if I'll be able to get to him without him seeing me and jumping away."

Phillip is persistent. "You can tries can't you, Daddee?"

"Well, I can try, but don't be too disappointed if I miss."

"I won't be." Phillip reassures as he hands Arnold the net.

Arnold takes the net and gives Phillip the jar with the tadpoles. He steps into the water, taking careful note of the rocky bottom that is covered in lake slime. Each time he steps down on the loose rocks they shift under his weight and he finds that he has to put more weight onto his sore ankle than he would like. Doing his best to still try and favor his injury makes the trek out to the sunning frog even more precarious.

He is followed closely by Phillip, who doesn't seem to be having any problem with the shifting rocks below his feet. When he gets about halfway to the frog, he realizes that the water is deeper than expected and he finds that there is no way to keep his pants from getting soaked. He motions for Phillip to stay where he is, and to not follow him out into the deeper water. Disappointed, but doing as told, Phillip stands in place and silently watches with bated breath.

When Arnold is within striking distance to the frog, he lifts his net and takes aim. Unable to hold onto his excitement any longer, Phillip lets out with a loud "NOW!" that causes Arnold to flinch. The jerky movement of the net startles the frog and makes a jump for it, but instead of jumping out further into the lake as expected, it jumps straight at Arnold.

The shock of seeing a larger than average bullfrog leap at him causes Arnold to take a reckless step backwards. The motion causes him to lose his balance and fall into the water. Phillip watches as his father momentarily disappears under the surface of the water and he brings his hands up to his eyes in fright. In doing so, he drops the jar with the tadpoles, inadvertently setting them free.

A split second later Arnold returns to the water's surface and flails about coughing out a mouthful of lake water. He gains his footing and stands up, the lake water cascading down him like a waterfall. Worried for Phillip, he frantically turns around, re-twisting his hurt ankle.

By now Phillip is crying uncontrollably as the empty jar lazily floats in front of him. Arnold grabs the small net and hobbles over to his son. After picking up the empty jar, he scoops Phillip up in his arms and walks him back to the shore of the lake.

He sets his son down under the large oak tree, and sits down next to him. It takes a few minutes for Arnold to calm the boy down, and he sits holding him until the last of his sobs have stopped.

When his son has gained control of himself, Arnold hooks a finger under his chin and lifts Phillip's face to his. "I guess you're old dads not as good of a frog hunter as he used to be."

Phillip finally lets out with a small smile. "That's okays, Daddee, there's still lots of things that you're good at."

His son's words touch him and he smiles widely. "Well I'm glad you think so. Hey, it's getting kind of late, maybe we should head on back home and see what Mommy and Joy are up to. What do you say?"

Phillip nods his head. "Okays, I's kinda hungwy anyways."

"Yeah, I'm ready for dinner myself. Tell you what, why don't I give Mommy a call and tell her that we'll be bringing home dinner. How does hamburgers and fries sound?"

"Can we gets chocolit shakes too?"

Arnold stands up and holds his hand out for his son to grab onto. "Sure, we can even get some chocolate shakes."

"Oh boy!" Phillip shouts as he stands up to join his father.

The two talk happily as they wind their way back through the park, both suddenly eager to be home.

xxxxx

Later that night Arnold sits stretched out on the couch with his feet in Helga's lap and a heating pad under his lower back. She gently places an ice pack onto his sprained ankle. Arnold gives a small wince when the cold pack touches his bruised skin. She looks at him with concern. "Are you okay?"

He gives her a nod. "Yeah, I just wasn't prepared for the cold." He pauses and lets out a deep sigh. "Man, what a day today was."

Helga lets out a little chuckle. "It sure sounds like it was."

He narrows his eyes at her. "You shouldn't take so much pleasure in my pain."

She smiles back. "I'm sorry, Arnold, but I just can't help it. Did Phillip really have you digging around in that dirty old ball pit?"

Being able to look back now and see the humor in the day, Arnold nods his head. "Yes and believe me when I tell you that that is not something for the faint of heart to do."

They share in a laugh before sitting in silence, each lost in their thoughts. It is Helga that breaks the quiet. "You're a good father, you know that, right?"

Arnold takes a moment to think about it. "I try to be, but sometimes I wonder if I'm really doing this whole dad thing right."

Helga looks at him as if he's crazy. "Of course you are, don't ever doubt your abilities as a father. Take it from someone that knows how lame a dad can be. You, Arnold Shortman, are a GOOD father."

"Well, I'm going to take your word on that one." Again he pauses for a moment before continuing on. "I will admit though that I am so glad that this day is over. Spending a full day running around with Phillip has totally worn me out. I don't know how you do it."

Helga replies with a smile and absentmindedly starts rubbing his leg. "Well, just think of today as good practice."

He furrows his brow at her. "Good practice for what?"

"Why, the big Parent's Day picnic. Phillip is finally old enough to participate in the Little Tikes division this year, and that's all he and the other boys have been talking about."

After the day he's just had, Arnold thinks about having to run an obstacle course with Phillip and lets out a moan as he lays back against the arm of the couch. He throws an arm across his closed eyes. "Do me a favor, will ya, Helga?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Next year for Father's Day."

"Yes?"

"Can you try to talk Phillip into getting me a tie?"