It's a miracle, I am updating a story that has not been updated in well over a year. It took me forever, but yesterday afternoon I felt the need to write this, and that's exactly what I did. I think I'm growing up or something. Oh dear.

Thanks a whole, whole, wholelot to everyone who has been reviewing this story, even while I was absent. I honestly appreciate it that some people took the time to leave a comment. :)

Enjoy, I hope!

With all the things that were going on in my life, you would expect I didn't have a lot of time to think things over, and just acted instead.
While that is mostly true, I can't say I ever stop thinking about private matters, no matter how badly other things need my attention. I suppose that's just a curse you'll have to deal with once you have children, and I'm not too bad at dealing with it, if I may say so myself.

However, sitting here at Tricell, waiting for my appointment to show up, I can't keep myself from thinking about when life was easier, even though back then, I can't say it really was that easy at all.

I left my daughter with my mother, and I have a bad feeling I might very well end up regretting it, because my mother isn't the easiest person you'll ever come across. As a matter of fact, she can be quite a pain in the ass. I'm glad she can't read my thoughts though, because if she knew if I still used the word 'ass' every once in a while, she would most certainly make attempts to smack me across the head with her walking stick, and very likely succeed too.

This suggests that my mother was quite abusive while I was growing up, but I can't really blame her. I wasn't that easy to deal with, after all.

I'm still not, come to think of it. But at least I stopped experimenting on mice in her kitchen.

On the other hand, my daughter isn't that easy to deal with either, and I think she does like her grandmother at times. They both appear to enjoy making me feel homicidal whenever they're together. It's been like that ever since Ella was still a child, and we would visit my mother for tea and cookies. I actually think my mother was behind the 'I'm marrying a girl' phase Ella went through when she was ten. That's one phase I'll remember for the rest of my life, all because of one word.

"I'm gonna marry a girl." Ella stared at me when she said that and tried to read my reaction. "Because girls are nice."

"Going to," I corrected her. "And okay." I didn't really care, she was ten years old and, so I thought, marrying a girl would never lead to a teen pregnancy.

"You know why girls are nice, daddy?"

"I can think of a number of reasons…" I sipped my coffee and hoped she wouldn't make me list those reasons, because the only girl I actually liked was my daughter. Other children just tended to annoy me with their dirty hands and gigantic eyes.

"Really? I think I like girls because they have boobies."

I stopped sipping my coffee and put the cup down on the table. Boobies. Of course. "Excuse me, young lady?"

"Boobies are nice."

I agreed with her on that, but I couldn't actually tell her. "Why on earth would you… I mean… How could you possibly even think about boobies yet?" I shook my head and frowned. "I don't want you to use that word, young lady, it's a bad word."

"How is it a bad word?" Big, blue eyes stared directly at me. "Grandma says it's a good word. Better than titties, anyway."

Grandma? "… What?"

"Titties."

"If you use that word one more time, you will be rinsing your mouth with soap." I massaged my temples and already felt a headache coming up. "Also, I do not want you to think about 'boobies' for at least eight more years, and you will refrain from using that word around other people."

"Why don't I have boobies?"

That was the first moment in my life where I wished I had a woman to help me raise her. These are questions not meant to be asked to fathers, not even when said fathers were scientists and understood the human anatomy perfectly.

"I eh… You're too young to have them already, and they are not called 'boobies', they are called 'breasts.'"

"I like boobies better."

"Yet you will not use that word anymore. Or titties, or breasts. Simply because you are ten years old, and you should not be thinking about those things yet."

"When will I get them?"

"When the time is right," I replied, and silently prayed that wouldn't be for at least another ten years. I stood up quickly and wanted to walk away, but before I could even take one step towards the door, Ella was in front of me, blocking my way.

"You know, I'm still marrying a girl, daddy," she stated matter-of-factly. "whether there are boobies involved or not."

"I eh…" I shook my head again and closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them again, my daughter had gone back to her bedroom to play with her dolls again, just like every little girl should do. For a brief moment I felt the need to take away all of her Barbie dolls, because they have boobies too, and it just seemed like a logical decision to keep my daughter away from such matters until this phase passed. "I don't care who you marry, as long as you get married when you are older than twenty. Also, if you use the word 'boobies' again, you will be grounded."

-Oddly, at that age, threatening her with the word 'grounded' still worked quite well. I wish I could still say that, but these days she has a reply to everything I say, and sometimes the replies actually make sense too. -

Ella nodded and appeared to think for a moment. "So, can I use the word 'rack' then?"

I felt a surge of anger when I realized someone had taught her those words, and I wondered if it was possible to find out who had been that bad guy or girl, so I could kill them and dispose of their bodies tonight. Someone had to die for exposing my little girl to such vile words. "No, you cannot."

"How about headlights?"

"No."

"Hooters?"

I clenched my fists and inhaled slowly. "You will not refer to breasts with any word you can think of. You will not hang out with anyone who does refer to breasts in general, and if you do not drop this subject this instant, you will suffer the consequences." I relaxed my hands again and planned on making a quick trip to the gun store first thing tomorrow morning. "Now who taught you these words?"

"Grandma."

"Grandma?"

Ella nodded solemnly.

"Grandma taught you those words?"

"Yeah… She was watching the telly and just randomly yelling things at the girls in that show. I think grandma wants to marry a girl, too… She did seem to enjoy the girls on the screen." My daughter giggled, despite the fact I was glaring at her.

My mother. My own damn mother. I can't kill my own mother, simply because she will find a way to come back from the dead and kill me back twice as hard. That's just the type of person she is, determined. Determined to the bone and practically unstoppable after someone does not treat her right.
People tend to think I take after my alcoholic, crazy father, but it was really my mother who had the biggest influence on me when I was still a child. I always had a bad feeling whenever she'd be knitting scarfs during summer, and as I got older, that feeling never went away, but grew stronger instead.

I pointed at the door. "You are going upstairs and play with your dolls right now, while daddy makes a quick phone call." Then I remembered the Barbie dolls and their anatomy. "No wait, you are going to play with your… eh… toy soldiers while daddy makes a quick phone call."

Ella frowned, but decided not to question me and left me alone to go play with her toy soldiers. Or so I hoped, I do not recall ever checking up on that.

I just took a deep breath, picked up my phone and dialed my mother's number. So perhaps nobody's head was going to be rolling that night, but this was one thing I would not just ignore, whether it came from my own damn mother or not. I was doing a fine job raising my only child, and there was no way in hell I'd let anyone interfere with that particular accomplishment.

Someone interrupted my slightly unpleasant memory by standing right in front of me and calling my name. "Mr. Wesker, sir? Miss Gionne is ready to see you now."

I frowned at the man - or perhaps he was still a boy, judging by his looks - and gave a slight nod. "Thank you."

I left the uncomfortable chair and headed towards Excella's office. It wasn't really a place I enjoyed visiting, but with all the commotion in my life right now, I did not have that much of a choice. Things had to be taken care of, and Tricell would probably be able to help, whether they were aware of it or not.

Boobies. :3
*coughs* I'm sorry, I worked quite hard on this chapter, but the word boobies was haunting me all day, so it ended up in here too.
I sincerely hope you liked it!

FUNK.