Parenting Advice?

Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas & Ferb or any of the characters that appear in this fic.

Doofenshmirtz was idling about his apartment, sitting on his sofa and reading Ex-Evil Geniuses weekly when he heard the doorbell ring. His mood immediately soured.

"Agh, great! A visitor! Can't a guy get some peace and quiet?"

"But sir, hardly anyone ever comes to visit you," Norm commented from the side, dusting off the shelves with a rainbow-pattern feather duster and wearing his while maid apron and cap. "You get lots of time for yourself."

"Quiet, you!" Doofenshmirtz said, standing up from his sofa and making his way over to the answering device on his door. He had half a mind of opening the trapdoor with alligators on whoever it was disturbing his me time, but upon seeing the said individual, his mood did a one-eighty.

"Oh, well, this is a pleasant surprise," Doof commented, pushing the button to unlock the door at the bottom of the building and allowing the person entry. A minute or two passed, then there was a knock on the door, and Doofenshmirtz opened it to greet his former apprentice with a smile; he still remembered the days when the redheaded inventor was barely big enough to reach past his waist; quite the contrast to the tall and lean mad he'd since grown up to be. "Phineas!" Doofenshmirtz greeted, and Phineas raised his hand, smiling awkwardly.

"Hey, Dr. D," Phineas greeted him.

"What brings you over?"

"Dr. D, I need a bit of advice about something, erm, personal," Phineas said after a pause, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "Mind if I come in?"

"Sure thing, kid, you know I'm always here to help!" Doof exclaimed cheerfully and invited Phineas in. The two last down at the floral patterned coffee table Doof had bought at the yearly cutesy-tutesy knick-knacks sale for retired and elderly housewives and had Norm brew them a cup of coffee each, and it took only a sip of the brew for Doof to conclude that Norm needed some serious reprogramming.

"So," Doof said, irritated, knelt on the floor and vigorously rubbing the coffee stain from his lab coat while Phineas was grinning sheepishly with a cup of OJ in his hands - no second prizes for guessing where the stain had come from - and the formerly-maniacal scientist continued, "what is it that you need, Phineas? If it's anything involving wiring the components of a refrigerator into a single self-destruct button, I actually have a Phd in that!"

"Erm, not quite," Phineas said. "It's- I need some advice about... um... Dr. D, you're a dad, too, right?"

"Sure am."

"Well, you see, the thing is, um..." Phineas fell silent, staring at the ground. Dr. D Shot him a concerned look, and the redheaded inventor sighed. "Dr. D, I need some advice about Marie."

"Your daughter?"

Phineas nodded. "Yeah, her. You see, lately, I've been really worried. Like, really worried about stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Just stuff, um, all kinds of stuff!"

"Kid, you're not making any sense. You're gonna have to be more specific than that!"

Doof's words forced Phineas to pause and think, something he'd been having trouble with over the last few months. The spiky redhead sighed a tired sigh and tried his best to convey meaningful words instead of half-coherent gibberish on his second try.

"Marie, she's growing up so fast, you know. A-and, it's that, I mean, I-"

"Deep breaths, kid," Doof cut in, even going so far as to offer a class of water, which Phineas politely declined. The redhead took a deep breath, determined to explain himself properly this time.

"I'm just worried that I'm falling behind."

"Falling behind in what?"

"Being a parent," Phineas elaborated, then added, "I think I'm failing at it. Hard."

"What makes you say that?" Doof asked, genuinely puzzled. "I've seen your daughter, and she's turning out just fine. You're doing a fine job, trust me." Indeed, from what he could recall when babysitting Marie, she seemed an eager, friendly and clever young girl with a passion for inventing that was rivalled only by her father. What's more, when talking about Phineas or Isabella, Marie always pointed out how awesome they both were, so hearing those words coming from Phineas' mouth, Doof genuinely had no clue what was going through the boy's head. Still, he was his mentor and friend, and if he was going to help, he needed to get to the bottom of things. "Did something happen between you and Marie?"

At this, Phineas visibly flinched. Bingo, Doof thought, but didn't press the issue further and instead waited for the young inventor to muster up the courage and explain things properly.

A full minute passed before Phineas realised what Doofenshmirtz was waiting for, and seeing as he was the one who'd come to his old mentor for advice, it was on him to give the man something to work it. "I think Marie hates me right now."

"What?" Doof asked, caught completely off-guard by such a bizarre statement. Marie hating Phineas? Her father, whom she privately referred to as 'the coolest dad in the world' and had nothing but admiration for? Surely he'd misheard, and yet, the look on Phineas's face told him that the boy was being serious. "Why on Earth would she hate you? What brought you to that conclusion?"

"She kinda sorta blew up the right-wing of the house while working on some giant bubblegum dispenser, and while that normally wouldn't be an issue, the explosion ended up shattering the antique vase mom gave Isabella and me for our 1st wedding anniversary, so I ended up lashing out at her and grounding her for a week, even though she said she was sorry, and to make matters worse, I heard her crying while running up to her room..." Phineas explained, his face betraying his worry and shame.

"Ah, I see," Doofenschmirtz said curtly, tapping his chin. "And have you tried talking to her about it?"

Phineas nodded. "Yeah, I did try talking to her about it later once I calmed down a little, but she refused to even look at me!" Phineas slumped into his chair and pressed both hands over his eyes. "This sucks..."

"And because she doesn't want to talk to you, you think she hates you?"

"Yes!" Phineas exclaimed, straightening himself in his seat and looking straight at Doofenshmirtz. "I lashed out at her because of some stupid vase! She probably thinks I care about that vase than I do about her!" Doofenshmirtz saw the young inventor struggling with himself, slumped as he was in his seat, both hands pressed on his forehead, his cup of OJ untouched.

"Kid, lemme tell you something," Doof said, resting his hand on Phineas' shoulder. The younger inventor glanced up to see the elderly one smiling at him. "Being a parent isn't always sunshine and rainbows. Trust me, there are times when, looking back on things, you beat yourself up harder than Drusselsteinean local cage-fighting champion beats up the Gürbenkneltz." Phineas had no clue what the elderly inventor was talking about, but the man went on, "and yeah, you probably should have acted differently. But you wanna know something? When the damage is done, it's done, and the past can't be undone. The worst you can do is mope about it."

"I don't get it..."

"Look, all I'm saying is that you can't undo the past, but what you can do is fix things here and now, and instead of getting all mopey and depressed about the past, look ahead at the future and make it as great as possible."

"You think I can fix them?"

"You're an inventor, right?"

"I guess..."

"And when something goes wrong, do you just give up or do you do the maths again until everything's in order?"

"The latter, I guess."

"There you have it!" Doof said, smiling. "Now stop worrying about it and just try your best to make things right with little Marie, alright?"

"Wow..." Phineas said, taking in Doof's words. "I never knew you were such a good motivational speaker, Dr. D."

"He just ripped it off that Spanish sitcom he was watching earlier," Norm commented from the side, earning a vicious glare from the triumphantly-standing Doof.

"Quiet, you!"

That evening

Marie Flynn-Garcia-Shapiro lay on her bed, her arms and legs outstretched and her gaze darting from the ceiling to the digital clock she had on her nightstand. "Six days, eleven hours, thirteen minutes and fifty-three seconds 'till I can go outside..." she muttered to nobody in particular.

Why was she like this?

Why couldn't she control herself more?

Why did she have to keep breaking things?

The fountain at the local waterpark; her neighbour's treehouse; the local bank. OK, in her defence, the city was actually grateful to her since the latter of the three had been scheduled for demolition anyway and she had saved them lots of time, money and paperwork, but still! She'd never really thought about the consequences of her actions until her father had raised his voice for what was probably the first time in her young life, and she'd felt genuine fear; fear and a deep sense of shame.

"All I ever do is destroy things..." she muttered and rolled onto her side, assuming a fetal position when she heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

"...Marie?"

"...Hey, dad. 'Sup?" she replied, not bothering to turn around.

"Do you, um, have a minute?" Phineas asked, setting foot inside the room and closing the door. "I need to talk to you, if that's alright with you?"

"I have more than a minute," Marie commented cynically, sitting upright on the bed and facing her father. "I have exactly six days, eleven hours, eleven minutes and forty-one seconds of time to kill..."

Phineas didn't comment at his daughter's snappy remark but simply entered the room, planting himself next to her on the bed. He sat there, awkwardly glancing around the room, searching for the right words. Those never were his strong points; Isabella did always claim that he was better at doing than at thinking, and he could hardly disagree given that his own daughter was sitting next to him and the cat had his tongue.

Try to fix things. You can do this, Phineas!

"Honey," the young inventor began, earning Marie's attention. "I'm sorry I lashed out at you like that. It's totally my fault for this situation."

Marie seemed hesitant, then, to his surprise, shook her head and sighed.

"No, it's my fault. I broke the vase you and mom got for your anniversary from Granny Linda. I really should have been more careful. You had every right to yell and me and ground me, dad."

"Just because I had the right doesn't mean I should have done it," Phineas remarked, "after all, at the end of the day, it's just a stupid vase."

"But it wasn't just a stupid vase!" Marie protested, growing more frantic with each word that came from her mouth. "That vase meant so much to you and mom! And I broke it! Me! Just like I break everything around the house!"

"Honey-"

"Don't even try denying it, dad! You know it's true!" Phineas had half a mind of stopping her, but somehow, he felt that it would only make the situation worse. Marie slumped her back and shoulders. "Why am I like this dad? Why can't I just be normal?"

"Honey, you are normal." The look Marie gave him was telling. "OK! Maybe you're not normal!" Phineas said, his arms raised in defence, then added, "but you don't have to be normal. Come to think of it, I don't think anyone in our family's normal..."

"So what, we're just one big family of weirdos?"

"I guess you could say that." They both shared a laugh at that. "But anyhow, my point is that, normal or not, you're always gonna be my daughter, and even if I get angry at you sometimes, I'll always love you. Besides, in hindsight, getting mad back there was kinda stupid."

"But the vase-"

"I wasn't mad because of the vase, sweetie," Phineas said in a reassuring voice, gently stroking his daughter's hair. "I... I guess I was angry because something could have happened to you. I mean, you're always off doing these crazy and wacky things, I guess that when I saw that vase I thought to myself: what if it had been her? What if you had gotten hurt?" Phineas paused, then added with a chuckle, Then I remembered that this was the same Marie that survives deadly explosions on a day-to-day basis, so what's the worst one giant bubblegum dispenser could do?"

The two shared a smile.

"Dad, I'm sorry about the vase and about getting you worried," Marie said, glancing off to the side.

"And I'm sorry for raising my voice at you," Phineas replied, planting a firm hand on Marie's shoulder.

"Hugs?"

"Hugs."

The two shared a warm embrace, and as they parted, both somehow knew that their relationship was stronger than ever.

"So," Marie began, sheepishly, "does that mean I'm not grounded?"

Phineas flashed her a warm smile, but just as the girl was getting hopeful, he crossed his arms.

"Nice try. You're still grounded."

"Dang it!"

FIN