Title: My Daddy.
Summary: "Mommy, where's my daddy?" A question you no single parent likes answering.
Word Count: 406
Rating: T
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended

"Mommy," Anthony moaned from the other room.
"Yes, honey," I called out as I checked over my emails from the clients.

All of sudden he ran in the room as fast as his five year old legs would carry him.

"Mommy, where's my daddy?" he asked.

I froze, as I glanced over his innocent face.

I motioned him to seat on my lap.
I slowly stroked his wild bronze hair. What was supposed to tell him?
That his dad used me as a bet knocked me up and never realised what he had done. Made me love him and helped me when I needed someone most. Bastard.

"Why Anthony?" I carefully asked him.
"Teacher asked," he replied simply while playing with my dress.

I checked the clock, it was 3 pm.
The teacher would probably be there.

"Anthony let's go."
He stood up with a confused look on his face.

"Jacket on please." I watched him put his jacket and tried to zip by himself. My little boy was growing up.

I took deep breaths, I would be civilised; I held my child's hand as we walked out of the car. Anthony was still curious to why were here but for now I let him live in suspense.

"Excuse me; is the grade one teacher in?" I enquired. The school receptionist gave me a quizzical look.

"Yes, is there a reason you wish to see him?" She raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"I do, I have concerns about my child's progress and I demand to see him."

"Okay ma'am please give me a second."

She pressed on her little intercom.

"Mr Masen, you have a visitor who requests to see you."

Mr Masen?

I looked at Anthony confused how gave me a shrug and replied with a "forgot new teacher today."

Anthony never forgets. He may be 5 but he has an advanced mind.

I stalked my way up to the class with my son following slowly behind me.

I gave a sharp knock, he looked up in surprise.

"Hello," his voice was that same soothing tone it had always been, "I am assuming that there is a problem. Oh and hi Anthony."

He waved to him over my back.

"Why I don't think so anymore, the problem seems to have solved."

He looked at me bemused.

"Anthony," I cooed, "Let me introduce to your father."

Both faces were identical; after like father, like son.