DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!
RATING: T for Teen
WORD COUNT: 737
SUMMARY: Josh finds himself at the wrong end of a special kind of hell.
A/N: Please, be gentle... It's my first attempt at a WW fic. This fic is the result of my good friend and former beta, who has infested my poor brain with West Wing Plot Bunnies and is steadily feeding them with steroid laced carrots. I am going to have to hurt her for this.
REVIEWS: Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.
The only thing Josh wanted to do was finish his bagel and grab another cup of coffee before heading out the door. But as he found himself absently nodding along to her latest tirade, he knew there was little chance of that happening.
"Okay, now we have to go to the seamstress right after, because she needs to check one of the alterations. And you can go to the barber next door while I'm there." He watched from across the kitchen table as her hands alternated between checking things on her list and gesturing wildly to emphasize her points, a habit that always managed to mesmerize him. "And we've got to stop by the florist, because I really think I want to go with the other boutonniere for you. It's not as bold, but it's totally more elegant and that's the statement we're going for here. Plus, Mom agrees with me, so you're out-voted."
The planning of this event had been an enormous headache since the word go. But Josh knew just how important it was to her and he was willing to do anything to make her happy. And this thing made her very happy.
"OH! And don't forget to call that car place again. You forgot yesterday and if you don't reserve it soon they might give it to someone else and you-"
He interrupted her before she could launch into another rant about him forgetting everything without being reminded a hundred times. "Yeah, yeah, yeah… I remember, I have it on my PDA and I put it on my schedule today."
"Just as long as you don't re-schedule it...again" He pinched at the bridge of his nose when she shot him one of those looks with her barb.
"How, in the name of all that is good and right in this world, did this happen to me?" He asked, shaking his head.
He glared at her with a cockeyed expression and ground his teeth together as he fought the urge to begin a dissertation on the evils of women and their planning. "Donna!"
"What?" She leaned in through the kitchen doorway as she answered his call.
"Did I do something bad? Wronged some saint in a previous life? Stepped on too many poesies? What?" He threw his arms up in defeat as he exclaimed, "What the hell did I do to deserve a daughter who acts this damn much like her mother?"
Donna shook her head and rolled her eyes at his outburst. "Oh please, like you didn't know. This father daughter dance is just as important to you, so don't even pretend you aren't loving it. And don't cuss." Josh fell forward into the table with a grunt. "Besides, she's as much like you as she is me."
"Mom!" The teenager could not bear such a comparison.
"Again…like you didn't know." Josh peeked up through his arms as Donna proved her point. She gestured at the girl's windbreaker. "Your jacket is on inside out." She instantly blushed the moment she looked down at her jacket. "And you've either forgotten to brush your teeth, or you're getting a jumpstart on brushing them tonight."
The girl gave her a puzzled expression. "Your toothbrush is on the bathroom counter, with the toothpaste on it."
"Crap!" She jumped to her feet and ran up the stairs calling back, "Carri called to ask me about the Trig homework and I totally lost track!"
Raising up from the table, Josh was confused by Donna's choice of an example. "How does that make Beth like me?"
Donna rolled her eyes again and pointed at his neck. "Look at your tie."
He looked down and found that while his tie was clean, and matched his shirt, as well as his suit, it was only tied halfway, and sticking out in a big loop at the top. "Crap!"
From the top of the stairs Beth called down, "Hey Dad! Do you need these notes about the global economy and infrastructure deficiencies on the table under the hallway mirror?"
He looked down at the folder beside him on the table and found notes for a speech assignment on the history of democracy. "Crap!"
Pinching the bridge of his nose again, he winced as he answered, "Only if you need the notes for your speech this morning."
Donna turned out of the kitchen and walked away shaking her head. "Like I said…"