(Mine)
He closed the door behind him, pocketed the key, and walked off whistling. It was final. I was incarcerated for the first time in my short six year life. It was absolutely aggravating that dad was so cheerful about it. Doesn't it say in some parenting manual that you should at least feel sorry for your kids when you ground them? Isn't there something in Freud between the oversized breasts and phallic symbols about children's emotional development? I could feel my brain scarring for life. HELLO!? Scarring going on RIGHT HERE. Oh look, Dad's back. "Stop screaming and take your punishment like a good widdle boy". What the hell? Can I fire this stupid brick of a man and get a trained father? Anyone worth their purchase cost should know about mixed messages. I mean Mom has it down. She does this good cop routine that's amazing. Complete with cookies and a good story. Oh and there he goes with the whistling again. Stop it already. Get yourself a tuner at least… that's supposed to be an E-flat. It's the damn "Friends" theme, not the rhythmic scraping of a broken record across a green chalkboard.
I rooted around for Mr Bunchkins. Where was that bear when I needed him? Damnit, he was definitely in the room yesterday. He better not have run away again. Really, how far could the damn thing walk without me. Ah, there he is, under the Play-doh reconstruction of New York City. Yeah, that was unfortunate. There's now little bits of Harlem stuck on Mr Bunchkins' ass. That definitely doesn't look good. It didn't help that he should have been wearing pants. Yeah, I'd torn them off to make a curtain for my Batcave out in the yard. Then Dad came by with the lawnmower. Boy was he not happy. It was almost worth the lost Batman to see Dad's face in response to the crunching sound and that awful burning plastic smell. And the grass got real high in the yard for a while after that. High enough to play jungle tiger with Mr Bunchkins. He'd keep running and I had such a good time being the tiger. He had to have stitches a couple of times too… we were pretty rough. But he's a really comfortable bear.
(an hour later)
Look I'm sorry. Oh, who am I kidding, no one is listening to me anyway. Dad's probably fallen asleep watching TV downstairs. I didn't mean to run away from school; I like it usually. But it was so boring at naptime. The rain meant that we didn't even have the option we usually did of playing in the sandbox that day… and I certainly had too much energy for sleeping. It was human body day and Ms Jenson had poked the kidney picture a dozen times already. I certainly didn't care what I looked like inside. Mom usually tells me I have a clean boy underneath all my dirt when I take a shower and that seems to be enough for her. So why do I need this kidney and liver stuff anyway. Well anyhow, I decided after Ms Jenson had closed the door for naptime that I was going outside. She couldn't stop me and mom usually lets me play in the rain anyhow. So I left through the window. The rain was welcome relief, until I got wet. Then it sucked. And I couldn't admit defeat and go back in, could I?
Well Dad works next door at the office and I wanted some of the hot cocoa he always has when I come over. But that would have been if I had a real Dad. But this untrained moron rushed me home and locked me in, without my cocoa. And he was whistling. Such a bad father, really.
Look, I REALLY need to go to the bathroom. RIGHT NOW. DAD!!! HELP! This isn't going to be good. I haven't wet myself in a long time. DAD! I'm banging on the door… wake up!
Oh look, Dad left a note under the door. Imagine that. He was sure sneaky. Let's see… "I'm going back to work, tiger! Take care. Dad." Oh look, how cute, he left a second note with a PS. I'll bet it says something about how he's working late too, just my luck.
"PS I'm sorry about locking you in earlier, but I've unlocked the door now. You were asleep." The postscript had been hastily scribbled.