MidReal Story

Bad Daddy

Scenario:Bad daddy A father to a 11 yr old boy is a bad influence on his son and is teaching his son to be a dare devil well his wife is a helicopter mom and is trying to keep her son safe
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Bad daddy A father to a 11 yr old boy is a bad influence on his son and is teaching his son to be a dare devil well his wife is a helicopter mom and is trying to keep her son safe

Ethan

male. He is a former professional hockey player turned coach. He is reckless,impulsive,and adventurous. Ethan loves his son,Jack,and enjoys spending time with him doing extreme activities like rock climbing and skiing. However,his adventurous nature often puts him at odds with Jack's overprotective mother,Sarah. Despite their differences,Ethan values the stability and security Sarah provides for Jack. He struggles with the loss of his former carefree life but finds joy in being a father.

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Ethan's Father

male. He is a retired NHL player and Ethan's father. He is laidback,humorous,and supportive. As a grandfather to Jack,he enjoys spending time with the family and often joins in on their adventures. His relaxed attitude provides comic relief in the family,and he encourages Ethan to be more spontaneous. He takes great pride in being part of such a loving family and appreciates the close relationship he has with his son and grandson.

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Ethan's Mother

female. She is a devoted grandmother and Ethan's mother. She is caring,enthusiastic,and nurturing. Since becoming a grandmother,she has taken great joy in being an active participant in Jack's life and supports Sarah in her parenting approach. She cherishes the close bond she shares with her family and adds warmth and excitement to their family gatherings. Her enthusiasm for life reflects in her grandchildren’s outlook on the world,fostering a sense of wonder and adventure.

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Bad Daddy
I’m a bad daddy.
Not a bad daddy like I abuse my child or leave him locked in a closet all day.
No, I’m a bad daddy because I’m a shit role model.
How many eleven-year-old boys do you know who swear like a sailor and whose favorite candy are Jolly Ranchers?
Because that hard candy is a real tooth killer.
My son, Jack, has already lost three teeth to those little suckers.
But the way his eyes light up when I walk through the door with a bag of them is totally worth it.
My wife says I’m a bad influence, and she’s right as usual.
My wife is the complete opposite of me.
Where I’m a daredevil, she’s a helicopter mom.
Where I like to take risks, she’s cautious.
I enjoy pushing the limits, and she likes to play it safe.
You’d think all those differences would drive us apart, but they don’t.
They make our relationship interesting and fulfilling.
I need her stability in my life, and she needs my spontaneity.
I’m interesting to watch when I drink too much and get behind the wheel of my car.
Daddy will never drive drunk with your son in the car again.
Bad Daddy
I lean against the kitchen counter, watching as Jack’s face lights up when he sees what I’m holding behind my back.
My wife, Sarah, tenses in front of the sink, her shoulders drawing up toward her ears, her hands gripping the dish towel a little tighter.
Before she can protest, I toss the crinkly bag of candy across the room.
Jack snatches it out of the air with an ease that comes from long practice and begins digging through the assorted flavors for his favorite, blue raspberry.
Sarah’s eyes narrow, and I can almost hear her brain working out all the possible ways I’m screwing up our kid.
Bad Daddy
And she’s not wrong.
I am a bad daddy.
Last month we were at the dentist for an emergency appointment to fix Jack’s mangled tooth that had been ground down so far it was hitting his nerve.
And now Jack is unwrapping a piece of that same candy and popping it into his mouth with a loud crack that echoes in the kitchen.
While Sarah is busy with the dishes, I lean down to whisper in Jack’s ear.
The wrapper crinkles between his fingers as he tilts his head up to hear what I have to say.
His eyes are already wide and excited, and they go even wider when he recognizes the tone I’m using.
It’s the same one I use when I’m planning a special adventure.
I dart a quick glance at my wife’s back, then whisper, "I finished building your new ramp."
Bad Daddy
Jack grins, showing the two gaps where his candy-claimed teeth used to be.
He starts bouncing up and down on his toes, but I press a finger to my lips and he stops immediately.
I walk casually toward the back door, and he follows me, mimicking my nonchalant movements.
He’s trying to keep a grin off his face, but it’s not working very well.
I pause at the back door.
"Hey, babe. Jack and I are going to get some fresh air."
Sarah hums, not looking up from her scrubbing of the dishes.
Bad Daddy
She’s so focused on getting them clean, she doesn’t even notice when we slip out the back door.
Jack shoves his feet into his worn sneakers while I grab his helmet from the coat rack.
It’s a small concession to safety that might save me an argument later.
The screen door creaks as we step out onto the back porch.
I take Jack’s small hand in mine, leading him down the worn path that runs behind our house.
The late afternoon sun filters through the leafy branches of the trees above us, casting a dappled pattern over the weeds and bushes that crowd the narrow path.
We have to push some of them out of our way as we walk, but they’re not as thick as they used to be.
I’ve been using this path a lot over the last week as I worked on Jack’s surprise.
Jack’s grip on my hand tightens as we round the final bend in the path and his eyes widen when he sees what I’ve been working on.
Bad Daddy
It’s hidden in a small clearing surrounded by tall trees, and it’s not something you’d notice unless you were looking for it.
There it is—fifteen feet of smooth plywood supported by sturdy beams at an angle that will give Jack just the right amount of speed for his skateboard.
I tested it myself before I let him use it, made sure the surface was sanded perfectly smooth. Jack drops my hand and runs over to the ramp, his fingers tracing along the edge of the fresh wood, inhaling deeply at the scent of sawdust and wood stain.