Tuesday, November 28, chapter 8
"What's this for?" TK's father asked as he examined the permission forms that night. They had just finished dessert, homemade apple pie- Mr. Takaishi's specialty.
TK paused from chugalugging a glass of milk. "It's for school. The Argus project."
"It's an experiment," his mother said. "Some doctor at the university is programming the kids and making them into robots."
"Hey, I'm in eleventh grade. I'm already a robot." TK put down his glass. Stiff and mechanical, he walked into the stove. He clicked. Then he turned and headed toward his mother. Laughing, she dodged behind her chair.
Mr. Takaishi took a pen from his shirt pocket. "Sounds good to me." He leaned the forms against the refrigerator and scrawled his name. "Here," He said as he handed them back. "If you come back without a command installed about taking out the trash, I'm going to complain."
"Thanks, Dad," TK said. He clicked again and jerked in what he hoped was a robotlike manner.
His father clicked back. He struck himself in the forehead with his pen.
Mrs. Takaishi reached into the cupboard and handed her husband a container of sewing-machine oil. "Enjoy," she said.
Parents.