Preference

"Okay, girls," Sam said, sitting down in front of her twin thirteen-year old daughters. "You know why we're here."

"No…" Emma frowned.

"You just told us to come down here two seconds ago," Ashton said. "We have no idea why we're here."

"Oh, right," Sam said. "Well, since you guys turned thirteen last week and have officially become teenagers and young women and blah, blah, blah, I think it's important for the three of us to talk about some important things you might need to know about in the future."

"Oh my God," Emma moaned. "Please tell me you're not gonna start having The Talk with us."

"You gave us the lowdown last year, remember?" Ashton said. "Changing body, hormones… please don't make us go through that again."

"What? No, gross, there's no way I would do that again," Sam cringed. "No, today I'm actually going to give you useful information."

"What kind of information?" Ashton asked curiously.

"Well," Sam said. "Like I said, you guys are thirteen now. And I know you guys are starting to get to that age where you're starting to get interested in boys-"

"Starting?" Emma scoffed. "Ashton's been boy crazy since she could talk."

"I have not been boy crazy," Ashton snapped. "I just happen to think they're cute sometimes…most of the time."

"Right…" Sam frowned. "Anyway, well now boys your age are at that stage where they're not going to always be stupid and immature all the time…most of the time, sure, but they're also going to start going after you now."

"Finally," Ashton grinned.

"Your poor dad," Sam mumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes. "As I was saying…your both very attractive, obviously my genes at work; boys are going to notice you. Unfortunately, that also means that they sometimes won't know when to back it up and take 'no' for an answer. Which is why we're here today."

"What do you mean?" Emma asked curiously.

"Here," Sam said, grabbing the bag next to her. "Take a sock."

"A sock?" Ashton repeated.

"Yes, a sock, take one," Sam said.

"And Quincy says his parents are weird," Emma muttered.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Sam said. "Now, the sock alone isn't going to be much help against pushy guys. But, with a bit of butter inside-"

"Butter?" Ashton exclaimed. "Ew! You want us to put butter in the socks?"

"My personal preference is hard butter," Sam said simply, pulling out a few sticks of butter. "Much harder than the other stuff."

Giving their mother questioning glances, the twins stuffed their socks with the sticks of butter.

"And viola!" Sam said proudly. "You both now have your very own butter socks!"

"What good is a butter socks?" Ashton asked.

"Yeah, these things aren't going to do anything," Emma said.

"Oh really?" Sam smirked. She looked around the room and spotted the ugly vase her mother-in-law had given the family last Christmas. "Go get me that vase grandma got us last year."

Emma got up and brought the vase over to Sam, setting it down on the coffee table.

"Now watch and learn," Sam said. With one mighty swing, she brought the butter sock down hard on the vase, reducing it to nothing more than tiny shards of glass.

"Whoa!" the twins said simultaneously.

"Impressive, right?" Sam said.

"Totally," Ashton nodded.

"But it wouldn't work on a person, would it?" Emma asked.

"Oh, no?" Sam said, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch…Hey, Freddie!" she called into the kitchen, where she knew her husband was preparing dinner. "Can you come in here for a sec, baby?"

"What is it?" Freddie asked, coming into the living room, obviously not knowing the fate that awaited him. "By the way, did something break in here? I thought I just heard a crash or something, but I'm not sure that-Ow!"

Sam had slung her butter sock into his arm, causing him to topple down onto the floor.

"Sam!" he exclaimed indignantly. "What was that for?"

"What was what for?" Sam smiled innocently as Freddie scrambled to his feet, the twins laughing hysterically from the couch.

"You assaulted me with your butter sock!" Freddie sputtered. "In front of Emma and Ashton!"

"Well I was showing them how to use the butter sock," Sam explained. "They needed a demonstration!"

"You're showing them-No!" Freddie frowned. "I don't want my kids to be violent! You can't just show them that it's okay to physically brutalize people with socks full of butter! That completely goes against everything I believe in as a parent and I-"

"Relax, Fredwad, I'm showing them how to use it so they can teach any pushy guys they meet a lesson," Sam said.

"I-Oh," Freddie said. "So…they're just gonna use it on guys to get them to leave them alone?"

"Yes, baby," Sam said, patting his back. "But if you'd rather I stop-"

"No! No, teach them!" Freddie said. He turned to the twins. "And you two…if any guys starts flirting or talking or even looking at you, you get that butter sock out!"

"Only if he's not cute," Ashton said.

"Or if he smells weird," Emma said.

"Yeah, after all, dad, it would be hard to get a date if we just start hitting every guy we meet with the butter sock, right?" Ashton pointed out.

"That's the point!"

"Look, girls, just use it if a guy is making you feel uncomfortable and he won't leave you alone after you ask him to, okay?" Sam said.

"What about me?" Freddie demanded. "What if I don't feel comfortable?"

"Dude, you're not comfortable with boys even acknowledging their presence," Sam said.

"Can I go try this out outside?" Emma asked, looking down at her own butter sock in her hands.

"Sure, just don't break anything," Sam nodded.

"I'm gonna tell Quincy to come over," Emma grinned. "He owes me five bucks, and now I'm definitely gonna get it back."

"Great," Freddie said as the girls ran outside. "Now Gibby's gonna start yelling about hospital bills again."