Kids These Days

This is another short story, so I won't add to it anymore, just like my first story on here. Hope you enjoy it! I was experimenting with different topics to write so I don't know what people would think about this one. Please comment!

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“Daddy, can I get a Nintendo DS for my 9th birthday?”

This is the question that Tory McLaren asks his father every single day after his 8th birthday. Usually, his mother will chuckle quietly, shaking her head at the scene before her as her husband sigh in frustration.

“I’ll think about it, Tots.” It’s always the same answer every time, too.

Today, the question was posed on the front yard while Tory was catching crisp, brown leaves as they fall from the trees. His dad was sitting on the porch, watching him with one eye and glancing at an automobile magazine with the other eye. Out of nowhere, Tory ran up the stairs to the porch and threw a handful of leaves up in the air as if trying to make it rain leaves. He stretched his hands to the sides and spun, stopping right in front of his father. As soon as the spinning sensation stopped, Tory uttered the dreaded question.

As predicted, his father sighed and looked at him, putting down the magazine. Tory looked back with innocent, curiosity-filled eyes. It seemed like the curiosity could never leave those big brown eyes of his. His father secretly regretted wishing that his son would turn out like his mother.

Tory’s mother hollered from inside the house before his dad could reply. “Dinner’s ready!”

The little boy ran inside the house immediately as his dad froze in thought. His wife’s voice had triggered a memory. Something at the back of his head. Something that he rarely ever thought of…

===

He was a married man now, but he still had vivid memories of his childhood.

Ever since he was eight, he had loved building things. Toys, mostly. Paper airplanes, plastic bottle cars, cardboard robots, rag dolls for his sister… Oh, those were the best. How he loved seeing his little sister’s tiny brown eyes light up whenever he handed her a doll he had just created the day before.

Contrary to what people might believe, he didn’t have many friends when he was little. His only friends were the older kids in his neighborhood and the boy who sat next to him in class. It wasn’t until high school that he started making actual friends.

Therefore, the long summer days of his childhood was filled with what he called “his time”, a time when he could just be alone with his inventions and toys. The older boys in the neighborhood would be at camp and the few friends he had at school lived far away.

He would wake up early in the morning and help his mother with breakfast. After breakfast, a dip in the kiddy pool nearby usually followed. Then, he would work on another invention until lunchtime came. After lunch was his time with the toys that he made himself. His parents were lucky, for he built all his toys and never asked for any factory-made ones. He would play with the toys that he was so proud of until he was too tired to move a muscle. His mother would then carry him to his room where he would have his afternoon nap. Refreshed from the afternoon nap, he would run out to the backyard, where there was a big tree. A swing was tied to one of its thick branches. It was the swing that he helped his father make when he was younger. Everyday, he would sit on the swing and watch the sunset, cherishing the faint summer breeze. He would remain sitting there until his mother called out to him for dinner…

===

“Daddy! Daddy, come on, I’m starving!” Tory was pulling at his father’s sleeves, waiting for him to come back to reality.

“What? Oh, it’s dinnertime. Okay, Tots, let’s go eat!” He took his son’s hand and led him inside, where spaghetti greeted them with open arms. While watching his wife scoop up spaghetti, Tory’s father was thinking about his childhood. How he loved that swing…

“Hey, Tots,” he said. Tory looked at him curiously. “I have an idea. What if we make a swing for you in the backyard for your birthday? Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

Tory’s face lit up with excitement. “Yeah, daddy! Let’s make a swing! Wow!” He rambled on and on about what kind of a swing he wanted to make.

Tory’s father was glad that dinner and the idea of a swing had taken his son’s mind off of the dreaded question. That is, until Tory’s little hands scooped up the last strand of spaghetti in his plate.

“Daddy?” he said in his innocent voice, a sly smile on his face.

His father sighed. “Yes?”

Tory looks at his father in an angelic way.

“Can I still get a Nintendo DS for my 9th birthday?”

Oh, kids these days.