"Did they just say 'astro' means 'of planets'?" she asked herself. "No, no, no. 'Astro' means 'of stars'. I need to have a talk with my teacher. Or the publisher. Hashtag-That-Moment-When you are smarter than a textbook."
Soon after, Madeline's father entered her bedroom. "Hey, Madeline," he started, "your cousin Miranda has a birthday coming up. You need to get her card."
"A car? Isn't she turning fourteen?"
"Card, not car."
"Oh, my ears apologize. Can you buy a card for me?"
"No, you have money. So you can get the card yourself."
"Ooh, about that. I spent most of my 'allowance' on some rings."
"Since when do you wear rings?"
"Since 2010."
"So you don't have enough for a card?"
"Nope."
"Okay, how many times have I told you to save your money?"
"Zero?"
"Plenty! What if there was an emergency?"
"I'd call 911."
"But what if they were unavailable?"
"How can 911 be unavailable?"
"The Nazis got them."
"Nazis still exist?"
"Look, smarty-pants, you have been spending way too much money on clothes, accessories and teenage glamour. We need a family conference."
"No! No family conference."
"Michelle!"
"No, don't yell out mom's name!"
Madeline's father began to leave. "Michelle!"
"Oh, you did it a second time."
Madeline slid off her bed and exit her bedroom. She followed her dad who was seen walking down the stairs. She walked after him until he went outside of the house to stop by Madeline's mom, who was relaxing in a chair on the porch.
"Michelle," Madeline's father captured the mother's attention.
Michelle took off her sunglasses. "Hi, sweetie."
"Michelle, we need to have a family conference."
"You're not divorcing me, are you?"
"No, honey cakes. I don't want all of my money to be stripped away from me. We need a family conference because we need to teach Madeline more about economical responsibilities."
"No, you don't need to teach me more about economical responsibilities," Madeline commented.
"What are economical responsibilities?" asked Michelle.
"I think we give Madeline too much money," said the father.
"I think you give me the right amount of money, okay?" replied Madeline.
"I think so, too," agreed Michelle.
"Michelle, we obviously do," the father started. "We give her money and she doesn't do much of her chores, she talks back occasionally, and she spends the money on frivolous things. Like her earrings. Earrings that big can rip your ears off."
Madeline covered her ears, which were hanging a web of big, brown jewels. "Don't talk to my earrings that way."
"She even speaks to her jewelry and refer them as people. Who does that?"
"I do that sometimes," replied Michelle.
"Well, that's bonkers. Either way, we are treating Madeline a little too nicely and I think it's time for her to get a job."
"Ugh!" uttered Madeline. "That word stings my ears."
"Job, job, job, job!"
Madeline covered her ears again and groaned.
"You're hurting her, Greg," said Michelle.
"Come on, sweetie," said Greg. "Don't you think Madeline should get a job? She's old enough."
"She is sixteen. Maybe her working wouldn't be so bad."
"Be so bad?" repeated Madeline. "We are rich; I don't think I need a job."
"You shouldn't get a job because we're rich?" asked Greg. "You should get a job to accept responsibility for once in your life. I'm tired of handing you money when you just waste it on things you don't need."
"Then can I just spend it on important things?"
"No because you will just buy something for yourself behind our backs. You're going to be an adult soon, Madeline. It's time that you do something similar to what we do."
"Mom?"
"He's right, sweetheart," said Michelle. "If you want money, you got to work for it."
"This is ludicrous!"
"Don't you curse on this porch, young lady," said Greg. "Either start working or live in this house penniless."
"I-I-- I don't believe this. You never made me work but when I have no money at all, you just force me to do something I don't want to do?"
"That's what parenting all about."
Madeline groaned before walking into the street in front of the house. She marched towards the black car parked within the road.
"What are you doing now?" asked Greg.
"I'm protesting!" shouted Madeline.
"Oh, stop acting childish, Madeline."
Madeline raised her arm and formed her hand into a claw. "I let my nails grow so paint them French style."
"What does that mean? You're just going to scratch the car?"
"Oh, yeah. And my nails are long enough to get dirt inside. But in this scenario, they're long enough to get Nissan inside."
"Madeline, don't be ridiculous."
Madeline laid her clawed hand in front of the car's passenger door. "I'm going to do it."
"Really? Is that the best you got? I'm not going to throw a fit over an attempted car scratch."
Madeline slowly scratched the door with her long fingernails, making visible, long marks.
"Wait! Stop!" Greg whined. "Not my baby!"
"Who's acting childish now?" said Michelle to herself while putting her sunglasses back on.
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