It’s a tough life being a Family Man. Claire and I used to be so close. We did crosswords together. We roasted smores together. We even took our picture together outside of a church. Nothing says family bonding like a church photo. I don’t know what went wrong.
It’s like something came into her life, like a virus. At first, I blamed cheerleading. It had to have been cheerleading, I thought. All that jumping around for no reason. There’s no order there. It’s just mad chaos idolized by adoring pubescent boys and a handful of awkward girls.
But after my trip to the Ukriane, I found out the truth. It was something far worse than cheerleading: a boy. Yes, one little snot-nosed brat infiltrated this family and destroyed everything. If only Claire had been as ugly and strange as Luke, we wouldn’t have to worry about idiotic, immature lust screwing up my brilliant plans. Or is his name Lyle? Wait, no…Loyd. That’s it.
I arrived home to find my little Claire Bear standing outside with two Popsicles. She claimed the second was for me, or at least implied it. However, I knew she was hiding something. I just thought she was having a tea party out on the patio with her imaginary boyfriend. I’m fine with her dating imaginary boys.
However, Sandra impaled me with the truth. She admitted to me that Claire was dating. The trouble had started long ago, its effects already in the local news.
“Claire, you fool!” I said, “How could you be so immature!”
“I’m, like, fifteen, Dad. Gah!”
“It doesn’t matter. When you live under my roof, you obey my ridiculously strict codes of conduct! Have you forgotten we live with the fear of imminent and spontaneous death lurking over us?”
“No, duh, Dad. I’m not stupid.”
“Then you should realize that in a time when for no rational reason we could all be murdered, or worse, at any moment without warning, the sensible thing to do is give complete and total control to the man in charge, that would be me, and do anything I ask, precisely how I ask it without thinking it over for yourself.”
“Gah! This is sooooooo lame.”
I don’t see what’s so hard to understand. I mean, it makes perfect sense. Efficiency is key. It’s like being trapped in a room with two beer-drinking Velociraptors, with only a shield and a sword. If your true love walks in the room, do you go give them a hug? No. You let them draw the Velociraptors away and hope you can slice ’em up before they rip out your love’s jugular. If you’re hungry, do you get up for a snack? No! You do that, and you’re the snack. The point is you are alive when they start to eat you.
You have to let the situation control you, let it push you into limited actions. Only then will you have the best chance of staying alive. You can’t just go around doing whatever you feel like doing at the moment. You’re not the Dali Lama. You have to keep your eyes on the moments to come. If you don’t, you’ll be a dead llama.
I love you daddy, but you are being so lame right now. Gah. Men are like, so stupid.
Oh no, like, look out, that Velociraptor’s right behind you, and Muldoon’s already dead!
I understand the problems of being a parent.
Have you thought about a private school like Dalton? Maybe even a Catholic girl’s school.
You would have safety as well
as an in to one of the Ivy League Schools.
Btw, I think your daughter is only attending one class. All she talks about is biology or some dull class like that.
Core classes are a must. Keep her eyes on the prize.
Also, has your wife thought of being a socialite? A life of fashion and helping charities is one to think about.
Velociraptors? If only, man, if only.
I like your idea Heidi. She would be away from that stalker.
*Sniffle* yes, family strife is awful. I’m going through some of that right now.
Mr. Butler,
along the lines of Heidi’s suggestion:
You could try St. Benedict’s Academy. Claire won’t stand out there.
Well Butler/Bennet, whatever you’re going by these days…
I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but Claire is in fact a Petrelli, by blood if not by name… There is no way you’re going to keep her away from the opposite sex. In fact, now might be a good time to consider the (whisper) pill.
Actually, I demand that you consider it. Being a grandpa suits you, but i’m far too good looking and hot to be called grandpa.