30 Years Can Go By (Sequel to 60 Ways-ParentLock-BBC Sherlock)

Chapter Six

"Yes, fine. I'll act perfectly normal," I sighed.

"Well, that's a start..." John laughed. I knew that he was thinking that 'perfectly normal' for me could mean anything from slightly unsociable to complete freak show, but I was going to try to act like a.../regular/ person.

I got myself thinking. If this was the only chance for Hamish to have a friend, I didn't want to screw that up. I grabbed Johns laptop off of his desk, hoping that he wouldn't noticed.

My eyes flew to where I had guessed the Internet Safari application would be and clicked on it.

I typed into the Google search bar: What sort of questions are okay to ask your son's boyfriend?

The first search result was an anti-gay website, so I tried a different phrase: What sorts of questions are okay to ask you /child's/ boyfriend?

This time I was successful.

I found a website with an article that was titled "8 Things to Ask My Daughter's Boyfriend."

I found a few questions that seemed acceptable. The rest applied only to girls.

"Dad?" I heard Hamish say from behind me. I quickly x-ed out of the Internet browser.

"Yes, Hamish?" I asked.

"Can I wear your shirt?" He asked.

I turned around and saw him holding up my purple button-down.

I remembered the lustful way John always looked at me when I wore that shirt. I made the connection that Hamish wanted to look good for Arthur.

"Yes, that's fine," I nodded.

He smiled, "Thanks."

I checked the clock.

No wonder Hamish had started to get ready. Arthur would be here in half an hour.

"Hamish, what does Arthur like on his pizza?" I called.

"Arthur doesn't eat pizza. He's a vegan," he answered back.

"Well, what does he eat, then?" I asked, looking for an alternative.

"Salad mostly..."

Okay. I think I could manage salad.

I went into the kitchen and started rummaging in the fridge.

"Nope, that's an experiment, not lettuce..." I mumbled to myself as I pushed the bag of green colored hair out of the way. I was testing the affects of artificial hair coloring on the temperature of the hair. I didn't know what it would help prove, but I had been very bored this week.

I opened a drawer and found the lettuce and other salad components.

This was my first time making a salad, so it took me longer than I had expected.

I was using a very large knife to cut the vegetables and ended up cutting my finger a bit.

Crap. I was bleeding everywhere. I grabbed paper towels and applied pressure onto the wound.

John came into the kitchen. "Shit, Sherlock. What happened?"

"I was making a salad because Arthur's vegan and I cut myself," I explained.

"Yes, okay, go clean that and I'll finish making dinner," he sighed.

I nodded. I felt pathetic. I could solve murders better than the best of them, but I couldn't make a simple salad to impress my son's boyfriend.