Steps//M.C

One.

Michael hated salad. He hated the taste, the texture, the look of it and especially the confusion of which dressing to use on which type of leaf. Michael was adamant there was nothing worse in the world than salad.

He changed his mind when he first had to change a diaper.

But still, he found the leafy greens plagued him throughout the many years after the diapers were out of his line of sight... and smell. And so, he didn't understand what the problem was when he received a call home about his son refusing to eat his salad.

"Can't you just give him some mashed potato? Isn't that a vegetable?" He moaned down the phone.

"Mr. Clifford, why do I get the impression your son isn't used to having a balanced meal at home?" Michael had never been able to reason with his son's school. He knew they believed him to be a bad parent.

"Theo's diet is fine. What kind of school gives a six year old salad anyway? Do you really expect him to eat that?"

"Mr. Clifford may I remind you that your son is at an exceptional school. Now although the money to pay for your son's education might not be coming from your own pocket-"

"My son not being able to eat his salad has nothing to do with whether or not I can afford to pay your ridiculous fees. You know what? Is he in the office with you? Tell him I'm coming to pick him up."

"Mr. Clifford you cannot do that without good reason." Michael had no idea who he was talking to. He, quite frankly, didn't care. He hung up with so much as an angry grunt in reply to whoever was on the other end of the telephone.

As he drove over, his anger began to simmer. He knew that school was the best place for Theo - he was an unusually smart child. Yet still, Michael had extreme doubts about whether it was the environment he wanted Theo to grow up in. He wanted what was best for his son, whether that be giving him the facilities to express his gift for knowledge or letting him grow up like a normal 6 year old.

As he walked up to the desk, he was greeted with whom he assumed to be the man he had spoken to over the phone. He was dressed in a fitted suit with fancy shoes Michael couldn't quite remember the name of and a Rolex placed neatly on his wrist. It made Michael wonder how much he was getting paid compared to his own salary at the Supermarket down the road from his apartment.

Michael glanced down at his own outfit: his minion pyjamas with trainers and an odd sock on each foot that confirmed the assumption that he had been in bed previous to their disagreement about the salad. "Where is Theo?"

"We cannot let your son out of school without good reason."

"He has a doctors appointment." Michael snapped, becoming irritated. He wanted to see his son.

"Doctors appointments must be booked at least five days in advance, Mr Clifford."

"It's an emergency. Let me see Theo."

This went on for a short while longer, the man Michael he had assumed to be Theo's teacher eventually growing tired of Michaels aggression.

"Daddy!" Michael heard a squeal of excitement behind him. As he turned around, he was greeted by the warm expression he loved more than anything else in the world. His son's smile was enough to brighten even the cloudiest of days and there was no amount of pride that could compare to what Michael felt when he thought of how he had managed to create such pure joy.

"Hi Baby!" Michael grinned as he crouched down to his son's height. "What's this I heard about you not eating your salad, hm?"

Michael stood up and took another look at his surroundings. To his left, a cabinet of trophies from various 'young genius' competitions, and to his right a board covered in news for parents. Michael spotted the trip Theo had told him about and advertisement for the 'single mothers' school group. Michael began to wonder why there was no single fathers group. He began to wonder if he was the only one.

"Shall we go home?" He sighed, a little disheartened by what he had seen. As he left, Theo began to tell him all the things he had learnt that day. They held hands as they walked, something Michael treasured, and made their way to the car.

Again, Michael noticed his surroundings. The car park was full of slick, expensive cars. Michael's stuck out like a sore thumb. His beaten up joke of a car was all he could afford and he felt rubbish about it every time he looked at it. He and Theo had even made a swear jar a couple years ago in the hopes that the funds created from that would be put towards the car, but Michael kept having to break into it in need of money for bills and food.

They drove with the music loud enough to drown out the disappointment Michael was feeling. He wasn't in the mood to talk to his son. He felt like he was failing him. Michael had never had a good education. He dropped out as soon as he could, never paid attention whilst he was there and never looked back when he was gone. That was why he always felt like he was inadequate in conversation when talking to his own son.

Theo's brain was so bright and magnificent that Michael often felt overwhelmed by him and the feeling of not being equal to his son. He was scared that when Theo began to grow up he would become embarrassed of Michael and his lifestyle.

It was a long drive from the school to Michael's apartment. When they finally reached home, Michael was so full of emotion and thought that he didn't move to get out of the car for a while. "Are you ok, Daddy?" Theo said, unbuckling his seatbelt and moving closer to his Dad. This brought Michael out of his trance and automatically he sat up straighter, not wanting his son to see him upset.

"Of course. Just tired. Let's go in, do you have homework?" He walked inside slowly, wishing he had the energy to make dinner tonight. "Is it okay if we get take out tonight, kiddo?" He breathed, stopping in the doorway to put his keys in a pot - something he insisted on doing after searching for them for hours, only to find they were in a pair of jeans in the washing basket.

"But we've had take out every day this week!" Theo frowned, dropping onto the sofa with his arms crossed. "You promised tonight was pasta monster night." Pasta monster was Michael and Theo's special night in which Michael would make way too much spaghetti for them both to eat and they would use the left over pasta to put on top of their heads and pretend they were monsters, making up stories and trying to frighten each other.

"I know, I just- I'm tired, buddy." Michael had worked a late shift the night before and seeing the disappointment in his son's face crushed him. He was trying his best, he thought. "I'm sorry."

Theo sulked away and Michael took his shoes off. Their apartment was a small two bedroom apartment with an open living room and kitchen. It was all Michael could afford and it was barely big enough for the both of them. There were boxes left from their take out the night before, and all different types of clutter around the room Michael was in. He decided he wanted to clean the entire house, but instead found it easier to place him on the sofa and think about his crappy day.

He truly was, in his eyes, the worst father.