Title: Brownie Points

Genre: Slice of Life

Word Count: 548 words

Feedback Type: General Impression

Below is the piece I wrote. I do daily writing exercises where I think of a prompt, then write for fifteen minutes without stopping, then after the fifteen minutes, I stop. I finish up any sentences I'm in the middle of, but other than that, I don't add anything new. So please take that into consideration when critiquing. :]

Thank you in advance for your advice. It is appreciated.

“You’re definitely his favorite, you should let him know,” my wife, Caroline, said.

“Well, if that’s the case, you should do it. Don’t want to have too big of a lead in the love category – would make you look bad,” I retorted,” and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Jackass,” she said, playfully hitting me on the arm. She glanced at the clock – 2:45. “He should almost be here.”

The two of us made our way over to the other end of the living room where our bundle of joy was – and it was all for our son. I heard a faint squeal, followed by an even fainter creak that I had grown familiar with. It was the school bus, and our son was almost ready to walk through the doors of our suburban household.

“Quick, he’s almost here, you remember the plan?” I asked.

“Of course I do, now act natural! I’ll take care of this and get those sweet, sweet brownie points,” Caroline bragged.

I walked into the living room and sat on the couch. I turned on the Andy Griffith Show, which was a favorite of ours. The door opened and our son walked through. He did his normal routine of throwing his backpack on the kitchen table, placing his coat on the kitchen chair, and taking off his shoes and leaving them on the kitchen floor.

Caroline approached him,” How was your day, Stephen? Did your friends wish you a happy birthday?”

“No one knew about it until they said it over the announcements, but a few of my buddies did wish me a happy birthday,” Stephen said, annoyed. He never liked his mother’s questions. Most teenagers don’t, and he certainly wasn’t the exception.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”, Stephen said, trying to get my attention. I just ignored him, as I was currently whistling the theme of the Andy Griffith Show alongside the show itself – I didn’t want to intrude on Caroline’s moment.

“Honey, could you come into the living room for a moment? I have a surprise for you,” Caroline said.

“You know how you always say it’s so boring around the house, and how no one your age lives within 100 miles of here?”, Caroline said, nailing the plan.

“Uhm, yeah, I guess so. What’s your point?” Stephen asked.

“Your father and I think we’ve found an answer to that. Come look.”

Caroline bent over and picked up the small, white-and-brown border collie puppy from where it was lying on its bed in the living room.

“There’s no way! Is this for us?” Stephen excitedly said, rushing over to his mother to pet the puppy.

“It’s yours. As long as you take care of it, understand? We can’t have our new puppy pooping on the floor. You’re going to have to train it,” Caroline said.

“Yeah, you do that enough already, Stephen, can’t have two things doing it in this house,” I said, in character.

“You’re such a dork,” Stephen said, grinning,” I promise I’ll take care of it. Ill feed him, train him, take him for walks, everything. Don’t worry.”

“Wonderful. We’re so proud of you. Happy Birthday, Stephen, honey. I love you,” Caroline said.

“I love you too, mom. Thank you so much.” Stephen said, hugging his mother,” You’re the best.”