Papa Timmy Family Values

by: The Big E

Tue Jun 16, 2009 at 20:50:45 PM CDT

"So," sneers Junior.  "Can I go now, I'm gonna be late for my game."

"About that, yes, we need to talk about that," Papa Timmy says.  "We're cutting your soccer and your hockey."

"**** you, Dad!" Junior yells.  "You can't do that!?!"

"Um, yes I can and watch your mouth young man," Pappa Timmy retorts.

"What's all the yelling about?" asks Gramma.  Timmy's wife puts her hand on Gramma's shoulder to calm her.

"And you won't be going on your trip this summer," Papa Timmy continues.

"But, but I saved all that money myself!" splutters Junior.  "You can't do that.  That's my money, my bank account."

"Yes I can," continues Papa Timmy.  "I've emptied your accounts."

"**** Dad, if you and Mom weren't racking up so much on the credit cards..."

"THAT'S ALL FROM YOU!" shouts Papa Timmy.  "We need to cut expenses and live within our means."

"I will?" Timmy's wife asks.

"Yes, it's all for the good," Papa Timmy droned on.  "I'll be selling our bicycles, skateboards, hockey equipment, extra shoes and doll collections on eBay."

"Our shoes?" asks Junior.  "Mom's kidney?  What the ****, Dad!?!"

"Wahhhhhh!" cried Timmy's youngest daughter Anne clutching a doll.

"And Ginny, I know we talked about braces for your snaggleteeth," Papa Timmy continued undaunted.  "But we can't afford it.  And we'll have to cut back on your diabetes medicine, too.  We just can't afford it anymore."

"We're doing what?" asks Timmy's wife.

"What're you givin' up, old man?" interrupted Junior.  "Sellin' your golf clubs?  club memberships?  Sellin' your gas guzzling Escalade?"

"And GRAMMA.  GRAMMA.  WAKE UP, GRAMMA.  GRAMMA," Papa Timmy yelled at his deaf grandmother who had dozed off.  "She can't hear me anyway.  We're cutting Gramma loose.  We can't afford her medications, hospital bills and feeding her."

"WHAT?" the whole family yelled at Papa Timmy.

"You'll tell when she wakes won't you, dear?" Papa Timmy said to his wife.  "I've got a tee-time at seven I've got to make."

"That went well," thought Papa Timmy as he loaded his clubs into the back of his SUV.  "As good as it could have."

^{No daughters, mothers, grandmothers, sons, hockey equipment, doll collections, summer trips or extra shoes were actually harmed in the making of this satire.}