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V. 1.05. 'PARENT'S DAY'
There came a trivial point in the average academic school year that reigned heavy in importance for every teacher, and existed to merely make or break the students. Long chats in an empty classroom discussing grades, idle empty chatter between two adults who beyond the caged classroom they found themselves in, would've spark up a conversation.
Improve on this. Do more of that. Syllabus. Marking Scheme. Blah. Blah. Blah
Normal kids dreaded that. They hid the reminder letters with the schools emblem on the top from their parents till it was too late to hide it anymore. Even if their attendance was pristine and their grades were even more marvellous, a lining of anxiety that even an inkling of your school character leaking to your parent's still existed.
But in Arlee's case, when she'd gotten reminder about Parent's Day from Mr Simpson the first time around, she had been the first person to remind her father about it when he'd dropped his briefcase on the couch and every single day after that till it was just a day away. Much to Federico's gruelling dismay.
And every single day when she'd tell him about it, he'd form or a rare case of amenesia that made him forget about it. But not about the meeting he needed to attend that afternoon just an hour prior to it, or the groceries, couldn't forget that either.
Arlee waited for her moment to swoop in as she sat at the kitchen table with her bag strewn across it, mindlessly swirling the soggy left other bits of off-brand cornflakes that lined her bowl. Turning edible goodness into a condensed gloop of mess.
Thunderous footsteps came from the staircase and she peered up in anticipation, only to be disappointed by Federico and his heavy invisible cloud of cologne descending. With his unfinished homework and bags cluttered in his hands, he dumped it all on her side of the table and went on his merry way to scavenge for something to pick-up that counted as breakfast.
"Don't touch that, it's for your father."
Abuela warned him lowly from her place at the helm of the kitchen island without having to break concentration from pleating Talita's hair for school.
Federico still meandered in the hopes of her changing her mind about forfeiting their father's breakfast to him. "Then what am I supposed to eat?"
Her gaze not-so subtly shifted towards the box of cornflakes next to Arlee. Federico stared over like he'd been told to just eat rocks, but still went for the cornflakes anyways. Only to tip them over and find that there was nothing more than a couple crumbs left of him, courteous of Arlee and her gluttonous appetite. "The box is empty."
"Ponte creativo, entonces Federico !" exclaimed Pilar, slamming down the picking comb that had once been wedged into Talita's hair. "En serio, necesito enseñarles a cocinar a los niños, tal vez podría evitar que piensen que soy su sirvienta en vivo."
