Slinky, the Fisher cat, as she was commonly referred to by the neighborhood kids, twirls around Sam’s feet, waiting for a scratch behind the ears that only Sam seems to have mastered.

Sam ignors her as he tries to make out words on the sports page of the newspaper. Glancing around, he reaches for a pencil then suddenly notices he's being eyed by his daughter, Jennifer, in the doorway.

He clears his throat and shakes out his newspaper to show he means business.

“Dad,” Jen sneers, “You don’t need to pretend to be reading. Mom knows you’re crossword-puzzle addiction will never end. We all KNOW why you buy the paper.”

“For your information, I don’t go out and buy it. Some kid throws it on my doorstep every morning!”
“Alright, whatever dad.”

Sam watches his daughter leave for the kitchen and again attempts to grab the pencil.

Kenny hovers behind him and lets out a giggle of delight, “Nice try dad, by the way, your newspaper is upside down.”
“No it’s not!” Sam defends, “And what are you doing hovering over me! You trying to give me a heart-attack?”

“Oh that’s right, old people scare easily.”

“I’m not old.”

With Kenny gone, Sam reaches over the pencil and grabs a bookmark – marking a page about some political issue and setting the paper slanted on the table to make it look like it was tossed there.

Already developing a slight agitation, Sam encounters the a recognizable obstruction on his way to the kitchen.

“Dammit, Jennifer! I almost tripped on the ‘little mistake’ again!”

“Dad!” Jen runs in the room pale with worry, “Hamsters aren’t mistakes - and his name is Rob!”

“Well keep him in his damn cage!”

Abby saunters up to the scene and rubs Sam on the back, “We just need to get a new ball for him to roll in that stays closed.”

“We need to get rid of him,” Sam mumbles.

Jennifer scoops up the fluff ball and points at her father, “You see this mom?! He’s driving me insane!”

Kenny dives into the room and squeezes past the bodies to grab his lunch in the kitchen.

Abby follows after him, “Don’t go trading your healthy lunch for Twinkies again!”

“Ok mom, bye!”

“Wait!” Sam stops him by the door.

“What dad? I’m gonna be late!”

“You’re not late for the bus, you’re early. Oh right,” Sam laughs sarcastically, “You’re late for trading Pokemon cards with your friends at the bus stop.”

Kenny glances up innocently, “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t want you trading with those boys anymore. All you do is end up in a bid-war and that’s how I lost my Charozard card.”

“I already apologized for that,” Kenny reminds.

Sam shakes his head, hurt. “And what stops you from raiding my Pokemon collection again? I just can’t trust you. Let me see what cards you’ve got in your bag!”

Kenny takes a step back but Sam is too fast for him – grabbing his son’s backpack with the poor kid still helplessly strapped to it, he succeeds in dumping out 15 of its contents before his wife pulls him off.

“What’s the matter with you?! His bugle is in there, you know that! You could’ve broken it!”

“Not to mention killed me!” Kenny points out.

Jennifer pushes past them, already embarrassed.

“Where’s the ‘little mistake?’” Sam demands.

“Rob, is in his cage. And I’m going to school early because you people are too irritating to be around in the morning.”

Abby’s mouth hangs open, “What a terrible thing to say!”

Sam dismisses her shock, “Jennifer is always going off a tangent.”

Jennifer stops halfway out the door, “That was really mean, dad.”

Sam shrugs, “It’s alright, I blame PMS.”

Kenny bursts out laughing as Jen slams the door behind her.

Abby turns on her husband, “Why do men always blame our moods on PMS? None of you know the slightest about it!”

“Awww, honey,” Sam squeezes her shoulders, “I know. I don’t blame your moods on PMS – in fact you’ve got so many different moods, you’re like my own personal harem.”

Abby recoils in horror, “I cannot believe you just said that in front of our twelve year-old!”

Kenny grins, “What is that? I’m gonna look it up in the dictionary!”

Abby turns away in her fury and grabs an idle bottle of furniture polish. Assuming the unlabeled bottle is the water she often chases the cat with, she lightly sprays unsuspecting Slinky. Slinky moans and desperately tries to lick off the sticky solution.

Sam dawdles sadly behind Abby, hoping this sudden mood won’t ruin his chances tonight.

Abby smiles, “I guess it’s what I get for marrying the man who stalked my apartment window with a telescope.”

“What???” Sam chuckles, “I wasn’t looking at you! I was checking out your neighbor!”

“The only neighbor I had,” Abby laughs, “was the drag-queen from that nightclub down the street!”

Sam stares at her, “That’s real mean, Abby. Just let a guy keep his dignity.”

Kenny runs in holding a kiwi up, “Want some dad?”

Sam screams and hops on the couch, “Get that away from me!”

Abby swipes the fruit, “It’s not right of you to tease your father over his phobia!”

Sam squirms, “What happened to your promise never to buy fuzzy fruits? This family is wicked!”