Slice of Life

Why

(I'm a day late but it is what it is.  Happy Father's Day to all the fathers and father-figures in our lives.  Hope you all have a good day.)  

-

The sound of your daily daytime drama clouded the living room the mother-daughter blondes were lounging in.  

Well, at least one-half of them was.  

While Erina was sitting comfortably on the sofa, happily munching away on the sandwich that she made, her daughter had already crumpled her fifth paper of the day, after which she let out a frustrated cry.  

"It isn't good enough!" she exclaimed, scratching her head in irritation.  Despite her daughter's anguish, Erina found a sadistic glee seeing her daughter struggle to do whatever it was she was doing.  After a while, the girl pulled out a fresh sheet and started over.  

"What's that for anyway?" 

"Father's day.  I lost the card I made at school, so I'm trying to make a replica," her daughter replied.  She didn't even turn to face her mom.  She was in the zone right now, with no time for distractions.  

Erina could only hum.  

Father's Day.  A day honoring fatherhood typically celebrated on the third Sunday of June.  Although usually overshadowed by the (in Erina's opinion) obviously superior Mother's Day, many families treat the day as a special day of its own, with many preparing feasts and even parties to celebrate the occasion.  

Out of curiosity, Erina leaned forward to get a peek at her daughter's work.  From the looks of it, she was almost done with her initial sketch.  

Yep.  A six-year-old, for a stereotypical Father's Day card every child did at least once as school work, was making an initial sketch.  Guiding lines, multiple strokes, and all.  The girl reached to her left to grab her flower-shaped eraser.  Gently, she tidied her work, blowing on the paper softly afterward.  Eyebrows furrowed, she looked at the paper, smiling a bit in satisfaction.  

Time give this baby some colors and call it a day.  With a newfound excitement, the child reached to her right for her box of crayons.  

Prodigies were downright terrifying. 

"You made your dad way too good-looking," Erina commented.  The girl looked up at her, hands still on the flap of the box.  

"But...I based this from a photo..." she mumbled.  She looked at her drawing again.  She was sure she got his hair right.  His smile was just the right amount of wide, and his signature bandana had the perfect amount of flow to make it look cool but not too flowy that it looked unrealistic. 

"Even so," 

"Hmmm, it's fine.  I'm okay with Daddy looking a bit more handsome than usual.  Besides, I drew YOU with a crown of flowers and a pretty gown I'm pretty sure we don't even have,"  the girl finally said before opening the box in her hands and starting to color.  

Erina frowned, not in a negative way though, she was impressed.  She got the better of her in an argument at the age of six years and two months.  Not bad.  

She grabbed her sandwich, which had been resting on the armrest of the sofa the entire time.  She ate the remainder of the food, munching happily as she continued watching the show.  Not even a minute later, Yumi asked a question that took her by surprise.  

"That reminds me, why'd you marry Daddy in the first place, Mommy?"  Erina's eyes widened as she almost choked on her food.  

"Huh?"  came her reply as soon as she composed herself.  Yumi, with the aura of a headmistress of a culinary academy, elaborated, again without taking her eyes off her work.