Timothy Parker
“Oh, I threaten them daily, but do I get listened to? No. It was obviously one of them unless it was you or mom taking my stuff.” she rolled her eyes at her dad, he was always so naive “You look like shit dad.” she told him “mom is always complaining how you fall asleep in here, and It’s kind of getting old. Go to bed.” she command, shaking her head and closed the closet door. If she had to choose one of her parents to be forced to talk to, it would always be her dad. Her mother always just seemed to piss her off with every word she said. “Oh, did mom tell you the latest reason she bitches at me? Cause I told her the organic food she makes sucks and none of us like it. She doesn’t know the difference between honesty and an insult.” she told him with a smirk.
*”Damn Charlie. I’ll never understand you. I’ll say this right now, I haven’t touched your stuff and I doubt your mother has.” Timothy tried to focus but he was way too tired. He didn’t even think about what he was saying to his daughter.”Yeah I know. You don’t need to remind me.” Timothy yawned and he sat down back at his desk looking at the computer screen. His hair was all messed up, no wonder his daughter said he looked like shit. “Yeah, well I can’t sleep anywhere until I get this done.”
Timothy kept scrolling through his emails and writing numbers down. “Well you know how your mother is. She hates being criticized.” he looks at Charlie behind him. “Though I agree with you, you still have to be more nicer to your mother.”
Charlie was rummaging through her stuff. Things had gone missing, mostly some of her painting supply, and of course, this instantly put her in a pissed off mood. The only good thing was that she had extra supplies in the closet of her dads office and that’s exactly where she began to storm off too. She pushed the door open, ignoring her father’s words as she made her way to the closet and opened the door. After digging through the various boxes she found what she was looking for; a few bottles of paint, a wide brush, and a sponge. She got up off her knees and looked at her dad, who of course looked worn down and swamped with work “Tell all three of your sons that next time one of them goes through my stuff, or even walks into my room, I’ll break their arm.” she said.
Timothy watched his daughter push her way through his office to the closet. He rolled his eyes as she ignored him. Typical. She was pulling out a bunch of art equipment. A few of his stuff fell onto the floor. He scratched his nose and rubbed his eyes. How could she be doing art work this late. He should really stop questioning her actions. He sighed when she asked to threaten her brothers for her. She was being sarcastic of course. “I’m pretty sure you can do a good job threatening your brothers yourself. I doubt they even touched your things.”
