Work Text:
Not The Nails!
by Pirate Turner
"Dad, Dad, you gotta see this!"
Drake jumped up out of his chair and raced to where Gosalyn called him from the living room. She stood alone with the door shut and the television off. He peered at her curiously. "What . . . ?"
Grinning from ear to ear, Gosalyn waved her hand in front of her father. "Aren't they cool?"
Drake looked down at her shiny nails and tried not to make a face at the shiny purple and pink backgrounds with the tiny, sparkly fireworks shooting over their crests. He fought to find the right remark, knowing all too well, from experience, that his teenaged daughter seemed to find the most innocent comments offensive lately. "Sure, baby, they're beautiful," he said, hugging her.
"My show's about to come on!" she exclaimed, parting from him and flopping down onto the couch. No sooner did she pick up the remote than she cried, "Ouch!"
Drake whirled around. "What? What's wrong?"
"My nail!" she cried, tears welling in her eyes. "It broke!"
"Gosalyn, that is enough!" Drake exclaimed. "The girl you were would never have cried over -- "
"Dad," she cut him off, "remember how you sent me to the mall with your credit card and told me to get one thing and one thing only that I wanted for my birthday and you had Launchpad trailing me to make sure I only bought one thing and didn't go nuts?" He nodded slowly. "Well, if you realized how much these nails cost and that it's already ruined, you'd be crying too!" She tossed him the crumpled receipt, and when he unrolled it, Drake began to cry too.
The End