Not Having Fun

029

"What d'you mean?" He's still driving. I watch his face closely from the front seat.

"You like him more. Is it just cause he behaves?"

He turns to me for a second. "What makes you think I like him more?"

"You're more lenient with him. Treat him way better than you did me when I was his age.  You barely ever give him into trouble,"
Dad sighs. "I'm less strict with Max because I learned from my mistakes. I was too harsh on you when you were a kid. Shouldn't have smacked you or shouted at you as much as I did. I know that now,"

I just look at him. What am I meant to say to that?

"It's not fair on you. I know that. I'm sorry you had to learn my mistakes along with me,"

I think for a minute. "Does that mean you're not gonna smack us anymore?"

"No, it doesn't," Dad laughs. "But I'm gonna be less strict with both of you. Your mother too, she's gonna try her hardest to be more patient,"

I smile. I'd hug  him but y'know, we're in a car. "Thanks, Dad,"

I got to pick the takeaway for tonight. Max threw a fit and got sent to his room! This has been a brilliant day.

"I'm going up to bed. Roxie kept me up all night," Mum gets up. 

"Night, dear,"

"Don't stay up too late you two," she winks at Dad and I sitting on the couch. "Or you'll both feel the back of my hand!"

Lmao, ball and chain much?

"Owned,"

"Eh?" Dad looks at me. "I'll never understand the language you kids come up with,"

We watch comedy panel shows... until three in the morning! And Dad and I crash on the couch.

The next morning, he tells me to bring my PS5 down.

"You don't even play video games!"

"I did in the eighties,"

"Alright then," I'll bring down COD, I have dual screens. Let's see how he likes being trashed for a change.

...

"I got a kill!"

"Whoop-dee-doo," I scoff with my sixty kill streak.  "It's like I'm the Dad and you're the kid. And I'm tanning your arse!"

I win, because of course I do. But then I take pity and let Dad play Mario on my Switch. They've got all the old levels from the eighties.

"Oh, I did it!" He's such a bloody kid, man.

"Would you guys ever have another kid? See if you can give Max a brother what actually looks like him,"

"I know, Max came out so different to you and Roxie!" Dad nods. "But no. We're too old. I'll be forty-seven soon. We're happy with you three,"

I nod. It makes sense. They'll have had enough of parenting by the time Roxie grows up. Dad will be sixty and she'll be thirteen! That's so weird. I've got classmates whose parents are thirty.

"I wanna have two kids," I've never told anyone that. I don't even know why I want two. Two boys - or girls, it don't matter.

"Nice. But don't plan anything yet. You three were all surprises! And the best we could be hoped for,"

"Ugh, don't be so wet!" Usually its Mum who ruins things with the mushy stuff.

"Sorry, son," he laughs. "Anyways, I'd better tend to your sister. We've been trying to get her to say things,"

"Is everything alright with her?" His tone changed. I'm worried. They said that because of their age there might be... complications.

"It's fine. We'd just be expecting her to talk by now. She'll be one in two months,"

"What happens if she doesn't talk at all? If she's non verbal?" I learned that term from TikTok.

Dad shrugs. "Then she won't talk. We'll all have to learn sign language, mind you. I was never good at languages,"

"Me either," smiling, I stretch my feet onto the ottoman. "So it's alright then? If she's disabled or that?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" 

I shrug. I suppose I expected a man who freaks out at COD to be more neurotic about that. "Can we get Chinese again?"

"Sorry, mate. Money's a bit tight. We'll cook tonight and-" he winks. "I'll convince Max he wants Chinese next weekend when it's his night to choose,"

"Nice!"

This weekend has been great. I thought I was too old for all this father/son bollocks. But I forgot about how much I like spending time with Dad.