American Dad Snot Mom Novels & Stories

And his eyes looked tired. Mum stood at the side of the bed with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression tight with concern until she saw me. “Thank God,” she exhaled, stepping aside. “Maybe you can talk some sense into your stubborn father.” “Or maybe you can talk some sense into your stubborn mother,” Dad countered, gesturing weakly to the tray. “I’m full. Completely full. I had some chips earlier.” “I don't even believe you," Mum countered. “And like I said, chips don't even count, Alden. You didn't have any food in the morning. You should try to have some more of this.”

Sometimes he is just too perfect. ADAM POV "Adam, get the hell up right now," "Adam," "I swear," "Adam Polk," my mother screams as my crusted-over eyes fight to open. "Get up right now! You need to shower! You smell like death," mother screams again, and I cuss. Why is she still here? Why hasn't she found her own place? Dad isn't taking her back, and I don't need or want her here. I'm sick of her.

I squeeze my already curled feet into my shoes. Dad snaps his fingers in front of his face, and he drops his “I’m-taking-all-your-clothes-off-in-my-head-right-now” look. “Is Adam here?” He smiles—God he smiles—and I bite my tongue. He’s making fun of my dad, and I can’t help but grin. “Yeah, he’s in the living room.”

“Speaking of Dad. Where is he? I haven’t heard his voice since we’ve been on this call.” “It’s poker night so your dad is out with his friends,” she replied. “Oh, I totally forgot that still happened,” I said. “Yeah, you know old people and their habits.” “Mom, you guys are not old.” “I don’t feel twenty anymore,” she countered. “That’s because you’re not twenty, but y’all aren’t even close to old,” I replied, a hint of my Southern accent obvious in my words. “That’s my southern belle,” Mom said. “Good to know that New York hasn’t completely eliminated everything about you.”

“I have failed as a father.” “I think the fact that your 18-year-old son doesn’t know the name of a male strip club is a good thing,” Ty says. “I didn’t know what it was either,” Mark shakes his head. “You two make me feel old,” Ty shivers. “You are not old. You have an old soul,” Mark kisses his cheek. “How do you know Chip 'n Dales?” Dad asks. “I love Patrick Swayze. It’s not okay how much a I like him. I watch SNL skits on YouTube, so….” Ty blushes as he smirks. Dad is roaring with laughter.

as the media dubs him, smile only at me. But the media is a bunch of assholes, because they forget that he’s been such a devout single parent ever since he was young. My dad hasn’t aged much. At thirty-seven going on thirtyeight, he still has a strong build that fills out his suit. He’s tall and broad and has an eight-pack. No kidding. He’s the healthiest man I know. But he also has a few age lines that make him the wisest ever—aside from a certain someone.

"Kaiden and Roman would have such a field day if they ever heard me telling something like that." "Well, good thing I'm not a dad. Hey, do you want to hear a joke about construction? I'm still working on it." I choke on my own saliva in an effort to groan louder than Dad, but I have to admit mom's lame jokes are taking my mind off the stinging pain and desire in my body. "Then there's the one about the clown who visited his cousin in Austra—" Dad opens his mouth to cut her off, but he's interrupted by a loud banging on the front door.

"Have a good date night." "Oh." I smile right back. "I definitely plan to. It's been way too long since I was on the back of my man's bike, and tonight I'm gonna enjoy it." Dad picks that moment to snore loudly before mumbling. "I hate when I wake up to shit like that." Mom and I snicker. "Turn over and go back to sleep." Mom pats him on the back. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." This time Dad snorts, and Mom smacks him.

I held onto the door handle. I wanted to ask why they were talking about me like I wasn’t there. But my mouth wouldn’t move. The words felt too heavy. “Is Dad mad at Aunt Cass?” I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud. They both turned at the same time. Aunt Cass smiled quickly and walked toward me. “No, sweetheart. We’re just talking.” Dad knelt down in front of me. His movement was slow. Like he was afraid of making noise. “I’m not mad,” he said. His voice really was softer. “I’m just… learning how to speak properly.”

Again, he had turned out to be a pain on my side. "Honey, Tristan is home!" she loudly announced and I watched as their heads reeled in my direction, instantly Dad jumped off his feet and matched over to me, grabbed me by my arm, and yanked me towards him forcefully. His green eyes stared deeply into mine, his eyes were bloodshot and when he spoke, a stronger smell of acidic and sour like vinegar hit me from his breath, was that heroin? I shook my head, Dad couldn't be taking drugs. Instantly, my stepmom went by his side and pulled him away from me. "Honey, we talked about this, you are going to give him a chance to explain" she walked over to a couch and sat him down.