Father-Daughter Bonding

Tempers flail when a single dad's rebellious teenage daughter comes in past curfew.

Father-Daughter Bonding

John looked out the window that faced the front of his house. It was really late. His daughter was already way past her curfew. He was getting very worried. He wondered whether he should call the police or not, however being a former cop, he knew that somebody had to be missing for 24 hours before a person could officially be declared missing. He was contemplating going out and looking for her when a dark-colored motorcycle pulled up in front of his house, it’s lights illuminating the otherwise dark street. Two people: the driver and a passenger whose arms were wrapped around the driver’s waste, were on the motorcycle. Even from inside, he could hear the insanely loud scream-o music (if one could even call that music) blasted from the bike.

The passenger hopped off the bike and took off their helmet. It was his daughter; her bright blond hair stood out even in the darkness of the night sky. She was wearing a bright red crop top and super small booty shorts, way too short for his liking. Her outfit confused him because he swore she left the house that evening in a sweater and jeans. As he saw his daughter walk up the stairs to their front door, he scooted cross the room to a big dark blue chair with arm rests on each side and a nice cushiony seat. When Kristen was little, she used to call it his “thinking chair” because of its resemblance to the chair in the children’s show “Blue’s Clues”. Oh, how he missed those days.

“Kristen Marie Banks, where the hell were you!" He yelled the second he heard her key open the lock of the door.

 "Out."

 "Out? That's all you have to say. It's 1 o'clock in the morning. You were supposed to be home 2 hours ago. I was about to call the police."

 "O my God, Dad. Will you relax. I'm fine."

 "Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that? I tried to call you a million times. Most of them just went to voicemail!"

 "Oh, that was you. The ringing kept bothering me so I just turned my phone off. Did you know you could do that cause I sure as hell didn’t? I just found that out like last week. Oh my God, it was the funniest story. So, me, Bridget and Joana were at the mall last week when this strange man kept following us and I was like oh my God stop following us-"

 "Kristen! I'm on my last nerve with you right now! So please shut up and go to bed before I decide to go to the animal shelter and trade you in for a golden retriever!"

 "Gosh Dad, that's so mean. No wonder mom left you."

 "Up!..... Stairs!

How on earth did my little girl turn into a walking ball of rebellious hormones? He wondered to himself as his daughter ran up the stairs.

 

The next morning, John was making breakfast when he looked at the time.

 "Kristen! Get your butt down here! It's 8 o'clock in the morning. We have to leave in 15 minutes.”

Two minutes later and his daughter still wasn’t up.

"I swear to God, Kristen. You're already grounded for two months for the stunt you pulled last night! If I have to come up there, you'll be 30 years old before you're allowed to leave the house again."

John heard a pair of feet stomping down the stairs.

"Geez dad, I'm coming. Can't you be a little patient. I didn't get to sleep until like 1:30 last night."

“Just eat your breakfast before you make me have a coronary."

"Gosh dad. I'm eating. I'm eating. You don't have to be so dramatic."

 "I can be as dramatic as I want. I'm your father. That's my job.”

“I thought your job was to make my life a living hell.”

"Twelve minutes."

 "What?"

 "Twelve minutes. Twelve minutes then we're out the door."

 "But dad that's not nearly enough time. I still have to do my makeup, wash my hair, straighten my hair, change out of these ugly pinstripe pajamas you bought me. Like seriously dad these pajamas are so dumb. Like what were you thinking. I mean, the only reason why I wear them is because all my other pants are in the wash. Oh yeah. That reminds me. I also need to-

 "Ten minutes, Kristen. I don't care if you come down here looking like f*****g Beetlejuice, we are going out the front door in ten... nine minutes. So, if you want to get any of that done, I suggest you stop talking and do it."

 "Fine. I'll just do my makeup in the car. You know, dad, you should really try to learn to control that anger of yours. I mean, I'm your daughter for crying out loud. You’re supposed to be loving towards me."

"Eight minutes, Kristen."

“Whatever, Dad. But if I lose all my friends and become a social outcast, I’ll know who to blame.”

Eight minutes later, Kristen walked down the stairs. She had on a pair of skinny jeans and a black halter top. Her straightened hair went down to her mid-torso. 

“You happy now? I look like such a geek. I mean, look at my hair. It’s like I stuck my finger into a light socket.”

“Maybe that’ll teach you to not stay out past curfew and sleeping in.”

“Whatever. Let’s just go.”