My Daddy "The Fonz"

Chapter 8/Part 3: Fishing for Confidence (TW: spanking)

~Gosh, this one is so freaking long! I was not expecting for the words to come flowing out like they did...get ready because it's around 5,000 words. Usually I strive for around 2,000-3.000 words for each part. My bad! Please take this into account if you are a busy beaver like I am! Anyway, enjoy this wild ride of a chapter! It's got some whacky twists and turns :D

Bobby's POV:

We are FINALLY here! The very first thing I wanna do is spend this money at the candy shack. Daddy says that every beach has one. 'Cept before I can, Mr. C pulls me back by the arm and tells me he wants to talk to everyone before we go do what we want. We huddle around, kind of like football players do on a field before a game.

"Alright everyone, especially Joanie and Bobby, listen up. We need to set some ground rules. First things first... Look around: as you can see, there are no lifeguards here. That means you need to be safe and stay clear of the rip tide, the drop offs, and any wild sea animals with sharp teeth and fins. Bobby, you need to wear a life jacket if you are to swim at all here, and you might as well stay close to the shore for extra caution. Joanie, you best stay together with him as his safety buddy when you two aren't within eyesight of the adults. Got it?"

Joanie huffs. "But I'm not a baby. I've known how to swim since I was five."

"Joanie, stop arguing with your father," Mrs. C says.

"Okay, I have a question," Daddy says, raising his hand.

"Yes, Fonzie, go ahead," Mr. C says.

"Since you aren't Bobby's father, don't you think I should make the rules for my own kid? Just a suggestion." Daddy's arms go all folded, and his hip juts out really far. I don't know why he's so crabby. He was really nice in the car.

Mr. C stomps at him and taps his finger on Daddy's chest. "Now you listen here, buddy boy, the whole point of this trip was to turn you around so you could have at least half a chance to do something right with Bobby. I don't mean to make a scene, but you honestly haven't shown me you can be responsible enough to raise him. Count this as a test to prove me wrong. Then I'll see about letting you make your own rules."

"Get. Your. Sausage. Finger. Off. Of. ME. Before I bite that thing off," Daddy yells then backs up. "You got no right in telling me how to raise my kid. I just came here to have a good time with him. If you got other plans, you can bet I'll be making my own some place else that doesn't have you in it."

Mr. C huffs. "Well, then be my gues-"

"Whoa, whoa, hey, Dad–it's–Fonzie, it's okay. Please," Richie says, standing in between them. "Can we just have a good time? Let's play some beach volleyball. Me, Bobby, Joanie, Fonzie, and Ralph can be a team–the skins. The rest of you can be the shirts. Sound good?"

Potsie looks over at Richie. "C'mon Rich, I thought we were gonna go survey some good fishin' spots, to get some hot fish," he says, winking. "And how come you didn't want me on your team? I'm not that bad."

Ralph slaps Potsie's shoulder. "No offense, pal, but you stink worse at beach volleyball than Joanie."

"Hey! I don't stink! At least Richie picked me over him," Joanie screams.

Richie rolls his eyes. "Let's just play, okay? Is that alright with everyone? Dad?" We all look over at Mr. C, who looks like he might drop dead from being so cranky.

"Alright, but just one game. Then I'm spending the rest of my vacation on my fishing boat."

As everyone starts to go over to the volleyball net, I peek over at Daddy, who is trying to escape somewhere by himself. "Daddy, wait up!" I grab his hand and start pulling his arm to give me a piggyback ride. "Please, Daddy, can we just have some fun? What Mr. C said was not nice, but we can do what we want, right?"