My Daddy "The Fonz"

Chapter 13/Part 1: Second Best Day, Behind Saturday

~FYI: In case I didn't make it clear in the storyline, It has been two years since the start of this book's canon. Richie is now an adult but still lives at home. Bobby is now nine. Spike is, in my customized timeline (not TV show canon), thirteen. And to make it easier, I'm having Chachi be the same age as Joanie because I don't remember his age. Joanie is seventeen. There you go! :) Also, Chachi is working part time at Fonzie's mechanics shop and part time at Mr. C's store.

Fonzie's POV:

Today–today nothing can get me down. I let the two little squirts sleep in since it's Sunday. Sunday is the next best day of the week, behind Saturday. I know I probably should be taking them to church, but yesterday was such a big day, considering everything. This allowed me time to make them bacon and eggs. Oh man, that smell hits the spot. I think it's what woke both kids up. The best way to wake a kid up is with food, in my book.

"Hey, you two! How's it goin'? How'd you sleep?" I ask, maybe a little too chipper for their liking.

Both just stand there, rubbing their eyes.

"Well?" I prompt.

Bobby remains silent while Spike shrugs. I can tell neither are interested in being awake right now. But too late for that. Breakfast is on, and no one can say no to the Fonzie Breakfast. I bulldoze them over into a hug, and they both grunt into a fit of giggles. I give 'em each a squeeze and a peck before I help them up. I can't believe how big my kids are getting.

"What're you making there, Fuzzy?" Spike asks.

Bobby finds this hilarious. "Yeah, Fuzzy."

I shake my head in disapproval. "No, nuh uh, that is not my nickname, and we are not starting out the day like this. We want to enjoy it." Where in the hell did they get a name like "Fuzzy?" That's not even close to "Fonzie." I give them my meanest glare and cross my arms. I refuse to accept this.

"Answer the question, Fuzz. What's for breakfast?" Spike repeats.

I scoff at him. "I ain't tellin' you. In fact, I could just as easy throw it all away, and you get nothin.' How about that?"

Spike scoffs. "For someone who's supposed to be cool, you sure let small things bother you."

"Yeah!" Bobby yells in support.

I've gotta say, I'm quite taken aback by this. Well, two can play at this game. "Alright, Raymond Archibald. Your name isn't all that stellar either."

"Daddy, you're being mean," Bobby states. "Spike's just having fun."

I can't be remotely mad at that pouty face. I can't hold in the laughter. "Well, how about you two have fun by eating my food then plopping yourselves on the couch for some late morning cartoons, huh?" Raising my eyebrows with finesse, I hope they agree to it.

The two boys exchange glances and nod. I'm relieved I don't yet have to kick their butts today. I've gotta say, I'm pretty proud of their camaraderie. I might just cut 'em some slack for a bit if they keep being so buddy-buddy with each other. Spike helps his little bro up onto his chair. Poor Bobs is still a tish small.

I stare at Bobby for a second in thought. "Wow, you sure didn't get your height from me, huh? You got it from Mommy the shorty."

Bobby's pout turns into even more of one. "Take it back. I'm nothing like Mommy. I didn't leave."

Great. Now I feel like a total scumbag. "Oh, right, I'm sorry kiddo. You're right. You are nothing like her at all." Before the boy can start his water works, I catch him into a hug. Spike begins to yell at me. Oh boy.