A/N: A little something I randomly thought of and wrote in about an hour because I love my parents. Happy father's day!

Happy Father's Day, Mom

Another Sunday at church meant another long, boring hour for Eric Cartman to bear. He sat among the congregation somewhere in the middle next to his mother, Liane. On this day he'd rather sit with the old people and their smelly cologne than near his friends. It was a secret only to himself, but Cartman was purposely trying to avoid contact with Stan and them, who all sat further toward the front.

Instead of listening to Father Maxi's sermon, Cartman tried to make time go faster by counting the number of wooden planks in the ceiling above him. He did not stand up to participate in the musical intermissions, and he did not bless peace among others when prompted. As much as he loved Jesus Christ (as questionable as it was sometimes), the only time Cartman ever rejoiced at church was when mass was over. Especially on this day.

"And on this blessed day, may you all go in peace," said Father Maxi, finally, as mass ended. "And happy father's day to all you fathers!"

The choir began to sing a joyful, recessional hymn as congregators filed out of their pews.

Cartman wouldn't admit it, but to him, Father's Day was a sensitive holiday. He would hastily try to make it out of church before he would see Stan with his father, or Butters with his, or even Kenny—who has practically nothing—with his. But much to his dismay, Liane always made it a tradition to go out of her way and greet her fellow neighbors on national holidays.

"Happy father's day, Randy," Liane greeted the raven haired man on their way out of the church, a genuine smile evident in her eyes and lips. She repeated the same action to others. And what would all the fathers and their families do in return? Politely nod, say a brief thank you, and hurriedly walk away.

"Assholes," Cartman muttered under his breath so that his mother wouldn't hear him.

When Cartman and his mother returned home, Cartman went straight upstairs to his room. He hung around in there all afternoon until it was nearly dinnertime, staring into the ceiling again and trying to get his mind off of what he was thinking about. But with no success, he just grew angry.

"GRAH!" Cartman bellowed, throwing Clyde Frog across the room. The poor frog plushie hit the wall and toppled to the ground, looking sad and pathetic.

Of course Cartman was angry. Especially on Father's Day, he felt justified in feeling angry. He was fatherless, and he felt left out. But then the images of a former football playing ginger would overtake his mind. Jack Tenorman. A father, but the lamest excuse of one. The father that Cartman never knew he had until he was dead. The father that he, himself, killed. It was the murder that he committed mercilessly, and all without a hint of guilt.

"Poopykins?" asked a muffled voice behind Cartman's bedroom door. "Dinner is ready."

"Go away, mom!"

On the other side of the door, Liane remained standing, trying not to take her son's biting words in the wrong way.

"Okay honey, I'll just wait for you downstairs," she said tenderly, an undertone of sadness in her voice.

"Okay, mom! Just leave me the fuck alone!"

But Cartman refused to leave his room and Liane ended up eating dinner alone that night.

Thoughts wouldn't leave the boy's mind. He hated Jack Tenorman's guts even after he killed him. He would never, in whatever life or dimension, accept him as his father. He would almost rather be fatherless. He'd rather be an orphan.

Was Cartman completely fatherless though? There was once a time when Cartman and everyone else believed that Liane was in fact his father. People found it outlandish, but Cartman would much rather have a woman as a father figure if it could mean that Jack Tenorman had no relation to him at all. But the cost of having Liane as his "father"—along with her already tainted reputation—meant social exile, as if she wasn't already an outsider to begin with. And though it all turned out to be a false rumor in the end, things never changed for Liane and she was still left in the dark.

Why couldn't everyone see through her unhealthy sexual ways, and look at her instead for her loving personality and good intentions? She had an appetite to bang the random guy at the bar sometimes, sure, but she had an even bigger appetite to care for her son.

Liane loved Cartman so much, almost too much to the point of being annoying. He was her pride and joy, her "poopykins", her beloved son. Cartman knew that better than anyone else. He wondered if the reason why he treated his mother so badly in return was because of just that. Her love. He didn't deserve her unconditional motherly love. Somehow in the back of his mind, he knew he treated his mother the way he did because he wanted to see her to love him less.

And yet here he was thinking about how he would have no other person—man, woman, hermaphrodite, …whore—as his father unless it was his mother.

It was almost midnight when Cartman had completely calmed down and got out of bed. His room was dark because he had not bothered to get up to turn on the lights. When he did get up, he picked Clyde Frog up off the floor and put him back on his bed where he belonged.

Then quietly, he left his room and walked down the dark hallway into Liane's room. Her lights were off, and by the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest beneath the blankets, Cartman could tell that she was already asleep. Still, he climbed into bed with her and squirmed his way into her arms.

Liane did not make a fuss when she realized who was suddenly with her. All she did was pull her son in closer.

"Poopykins, is everything alright?"

Cartman remained quiet for an instant. No, everything was not alright. Not for a majority of the day, anyway. But if one thing was right, it was this moment in his mother's arms. Although he'd probably rather die than admit it, Cartman would never trade in his mother for a real father.

"Yeah, mom. Happy father's day."

Liane understood. She kissed her son on the forehead and smiled. And though she could not see it, so did Cartman. The boy said nothing more and the smile on his face did not fade away until he fell fast asleep.