THE WORST PARENTS IN THE WORLD

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: The Imaginarium


Flash Fiction story inspired by the prompt 'Mind 0ver Matter'

Submitted: April 27, 2018

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Submitted: April 27, 2018

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THE WORST PARENTS IN THE WORLD

At eight years old, Luke was obsessed with Lego… he lived for it! His bedroom was full of the stuff. It adorned the window sill, filled every cupboard and shelf, and the laminate floor was littered with work-in-progress that took up every inch of available floor-space. Every Christmas and birthday all he ever wanted was more Lego and when he wasn’t building it, he was feverishly sourcing his next acquisition. Whatever the latest Lego theme… Luke had to have it and his passion new no bounds.

Being a bright boy, he quickly learned the concept of income and expenditure. Although grateful for the weekly pocket money lovingly donated by his doting grand-parents, it was no-where near enough to fund his insatiable appetite for Lego. He just had to have latest Goblin King Battle set, but with Christmas and his birthday still months away, and with his fingers itching to get to get to grips with this latest challenge, he was now desperate… and desperate times called for desperate measures.

“No Luke, you’ll just have to wait until your birthday or until you’ve saved enough pocket money to pay for it. Lego is expensive… at fifty pence a week, do you realise how long it would take you to pay me back?  

“Not that long. Please Dad, just this once, please.”

“I’m sorry Luke but this Lego obsession is getting out of hand. You have to understand me and your Mum work hard to keep a roof over our heads, clothe us, feed us, keep us warm in winter and pay for holidays in the summer. We can’t afford to give you fifty pounds to buy another Lego set just to satisfy your craving. And what about your brother… as parents we have to be fair, so no, it’s out of the question and that’s my final word on the matter.”

Luke stormed up to his bedroom in a strop and threw himself on the bed. He had the worst parents in the world… they had lots of money, he’d seen it for himself. His Mum’s purse was always bulging with it, and he had seen his Dad fill his wallet with a wad of crisp notes. He couldn’t understand why they were so mean, he only wanted a loan. Surely it wasn’t too much to ask for?

He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, mulling over his Father’s explanation, which he considered to be grossly unfair. If they were willing to spend their hard earned money on the house, on stupid clothes, on food that half the time his little brother fed to the dog under the table and on holidays they didn’t really need, then to Luke it was not unreasonable to ask them to fund what he considered to be an educational project.  After all, it took skill to sort through all the building materials then follow complicated instructions, and it tested his patience and determination. What’s more… he remembered with a smug smile… his Dad had also urged him to take good care of the sets, because at a later date, they could well be worth a lot more than the price they had paid. He had even run a search for ‘collectable Lego sets’ on his laptop to prove his point.

Luke couldn’t believe how short sighted his Dad had become. He thought how in years to come, when they were millionaires, they would thank him for the part he had played in their success. They would tell him how fortunate they had been to have such a clever, inspirational son.

His mind was now working over-time. It would be so easy, he thought. It wouldn’t be stealing… more of a business deal. He tip-toed into his parent’s bedroom and very slowly opened the wardrobe door. His Dad’s wallet winked at him from the top shelf, almost willing him to help himself.

He went over to the dressing table, dragged the heavy padded stool slowly across the carpet and climbed on to it. His fingers closed around the wallet and he pulled. He stumbled, almost fell but steadied himself, his prize clutched in his small, sweaty hand.

He stared at the notes… it’s not stealing, they’re my parents… he rationalised, removing five, ten pound notes from the wallet and stuffing them in his pocket.

He quickly pushed the wallet back in its place on the shelf and dragged the stool across the room.

****************

“I’m sure I had more money than this,” Mark muttered, his head bowed and his brow knotted as he carefully counted the notes in his wallet for the second time.

“Well don’t look at me,” Kate said, as she slumped down on the stool in front of the dressing table and picked up a hairbrush. In that moment, she realised from her reflection that the stool had been moved. She glanced down at the carpeted floor and noticed the evidence… four small, flattened circles in the carpet where the stool had normally stood.

“Mark, how much are you short?”

“About fifty quid, I’d say.”

Kate pointed to the evidence. “Well, somebody moved the stool… maybe a small person who needed to use it as a step-up.”

Mark stared at her, his mouth gaping. “No, he wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t he…? Luke, get in here, now!” she yelled.


© Copyright 2018 Sue Harris. All rights reserved.

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