"I don't know who I'm more disappointed in." Hank said, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. "You, Peggy, for making him make food even though he's a boy, or you, Bobby," he said, pointing at Bobby "for giving in!"
"But Dad, I asked Mom!" Bobby pleaded. "No. My son wouldn't do something like that. I know he wouldn't.. Peggy, you made him!" Hank accused.
"Hank, I can't believe you're making such a big deal over a simple pie. I mean, he was just trying it!" Peggy said, trying to help Bobby's case.
"..I need a visit to the hardware store to collect my thoughts. I'll talk about this later." Hank said, with growing intensity in his voice.
As Hank stepped out onto his stone driveway, he noticed the gang staring at him. "What are you looking at?" he demanded, before slamming the door to his truck and driving off.
It was a beautiful day, just like he noted before, but he just couldn't enjoy it now that, well, his boy cooked. It was such a small thing, and yet it offended him so much.
He tried to concentrate and enjoy the scenery, saving the worrying thoughts for the hardware store. That was his best thinking place.
The squirrels were relaxing in their holes, the birds were perched on trees, chirping happily.. no. He couldn't do it. There was just no way he could distract himself from this.
Luckily, his house was in close proximity to the hardware store, so when he was pulled out of this he was already there.
There it was, in all it's glory - SouthRiver. The best place ever to come to Arlen. It had fertilizers, pipes, drillbits, batteries.. really, anything Hank needed.
He stepped inside the two doors, letting the odor of paint and chemicals fill his nose. That was always the best part.
"Welcome, Hank!" The manager greeted him with. He was good friends with the manager - which was not surprising, considering he came every few days or so.
"Mornin'." Hank said back, in almost an angry way. He stumbled over to the paint section, where he began to collect his thoughts.
Bobby.. cooking. What would come from that? He could get a job in being a chef, but what about being a propane salesman? Could letting his son cook be robbing him of a job?
No, his choice would have to be unaffected by cooking. The main thing Hank was worried about here was Bobby's future. Bobby currently had a girlfriend, and yes, plenty of friends. A bit of being girly here and there was okay. It wouldn't affect him much.
But his future.. if he didn't inherit the propane-biz, what would happen to Strickland Propane? Would it just die? It could be replaced by.. Hank shuddered at the thought of it, another Thatherton propane.
..But it could just be restricted as a hobby. But what would he do with a wife, then? It's either Strickland is continued or the Hill generation is continued.
Hank wondered if he could even got his son interested in propane one day, so maybe he'd give up cooking and join propane.
It suddenly sprung on him that he could get Bobby to get a summer job at Strickland Propane! He could come with him on business trips, he could help refill propane.. it was an opportunity of a lifetime.
With newfound enthusiasm, he ran out of the hardware store and drove home quickly. His friends looked away as he parked in the driveway, probably from nervousness, and Hank stormed into the house.