The Good Hair Family Sitcom

S3 E7.1: Classic

TJ's POV

I drop my keys on the kitchen counter, and they clink loud enough to make Cyrus flinch while he sits with a book at the island.

"That was loud," Cyrus says.

"Jayda left the gas tank empty," I explain, annoyed, which makes Cyrus frown and set down his book as I continue. "I got in and immediately had to get gas. I ended up late for work because of her."

"We've told her to fill the gas tank."

"I know, and she doesn't listen."

"So maybe...no car," Cyrus suggests.

"I agree." I pause for a moment before realizing, "Does that mean we have to drive her around though?"

"No, she can take the bus."

"Jayda on a bus?" I almost laugh at the thought.

"Or she can get one of her friends to drive her places."

I nod. "I know she'll hate it, but I don't see another option."

"She needs to help us out if she wants to use the car," Cyrus agrees.

All of a sudden, our daughter comes around the corner in a blur, her ponytail whipping my back as she grabs my keys off the counter.

"Hey, dads, I'm taking the car later."

I snatch the keys from her grip, saying, "Nope."

She gasps, caught completely off guard. After all, we never say no to her taking the car. Well, now we're starting.

"Jayda," Cyrus says, "you left the tank empty yesterday, and your father ended up late to work, because he had to stop for gas."

Jayda folds her arms as she sasses back, "Maybe Papa should be more proactive and leave earlier."

"No car," I state bluntly. "We've told you countless times to refill the gas."

"I was going to refill it last night, I swear!" she argues.

"So why didn't you?"

"Because when I was driving home, I saw a crow fly past me, and after that kind of bad omen, I really wasn't feeling comfortable."

Cyrus and I both share an exasperated glance, although his is a lot less irritated than mine.

"No car," I say again.

"What?" my daughter freaks.

"Should I repeat myself?"

"Ugh!" she groans. "You guys are so mean!" Then she stomps out of the kitchen.

________________________________________

Buffy's POV

"Delivery for little Talia Driscoll!" Jonah announces as he barges through the front door.

He and Walker come in smiling, carrying a clunky bag into the kitchen where Marty and I sit at the table.

"That's not their name," I state.

Jonah just shrugs. "Whatever."

Jonah drops the bag onto the table with a smack then unzips it and begins unpacking. Walker helps his husband pull out all the cardboard and fabric storybooks which look like Austen must have chewed on them based on all the bite imprints, along with some newer-looking ones.

"We have all kinds of children's books," Walker says. "We have one about a bear who liked apples. Another about a turtle trying to cross a river and learning to swim. And this one about purple horse with a good message and subtle hints to racism."