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malibu
end of november
"i have a christmas present idea for you."
i glanced up from the fourth year m.i.t. project i was working and to look at my dad. he often told me, or at least gave me hints to what he was getting me for christmas.
he wasn't a patient person. and besides, i wanted to make sure his gifts were explosive or dangerous. (they had the tendency to blow up). it wasn't his fault, he just wasn't good at getting non-explosives.
"mhmm?"
"okay, so this is gonna be pretty coo — you're not even looking at me," he whined.
i shook my head at his antics before moving my project to the side. i put my elbows on the table and my face in my hands, giving my dad my undivided attention.
"and what might this amazing idea for a christmas present be?" i asked.
"okay, prepare yourself, 'cause this is probably the best idea ever," he tapped his fingers against the table like a drumroll.
"a way to remove the peacocks and cows from my life?" i asked sarcastically.
he ignored my comment, "i'm gonna give you stark industries."
