You groaned out loud as you began hitting your head on the desk in front of you. "What's wrong, kiddo?" your dad asked. You looked up at him. "I'm never going to finish this paper before it's due." You'd been working on the same paper for about three weeks and it didn't seem like you were getting anything done. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked as he rolled his chair over to you. Peeking over your shoulder, your dad saw that you'd only typed about one paragraph.

"I just can't seem to get my ideas on paper. Not clearly at least. They keep coming out a jumbled mess. I type about a page and half, re-read it and then delete it," you explained. As the child of the one and only Tony Stark, people expected a lot out of you academically. You weren't unintelligent, but you didn't have the genius I.Q. of your father. You struggled in school sometimes. "How long have you been working on this paper today?"

"About four hours. It's due on Monday," you replied as you felt tears of frustration in your eyes. "Kid, you need to take a break. You're over working your brain. Come on!" He pulled you from your seat and out of the lab. You often did your schoolwork in there since it was one of the few quiet places in the tower. The two of you ran until you got to the elevator. AC/DC blasted over the speakers as you rode down to the garage.

"Where are we going, Dad?" He didn't answer. Instead he gestured to one of his many sports cars. "Get in." You sighed but did what you were told. You didn't want to go anywhere. You needed to work on your paper. "Dad, I REALLY need to work on my paper!" you whined, but he just smiled and continued driving down the busy streets of New York.

After a few moments, he pulled into the parking lot of an old frozen yogurt place (or ice cream if you prefer). "Dad, seriously? We haven't been here since I was, like, ten," you said with a laugh. Your quickly retorted, "Excuse me kid, you were 16 and studying for your finals. We used to come here all the time. So, we are going inside to eat and then I'm taking you to the park to go skating." You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off with his "I'm not talking about this anymore" look.

You let your dad buy you ice cream and take you to the park. After you laced up your skates, you stood up and started skating around him in circles. "Come on, old man. You're moving like molasses!" You were skating backwards when he finally began moving just to fall flat on his butt. You burst out laughing and rolled over to him. "The great Iron Man can't skate?" He grumbled and hoisted himself up. "Shut up." He nudged your shoulder, causing him to fall again and you shortly after.

For a few minutes, the two of you just stayed on the ground laughing and ignoring the looks of passersby. "Thanks, Dad. I needed this." He ruffled your hair a bit and gave you a smile. "I know you, kiddo. You work harder than anyone, but we all need a break sometimes. I'll bet you anything that when we get home, you'll have no problem writing that paper of yours." He was right. You got your paper finished by the next day. Your father gave you a knowingly and walked out of the lab singing, "I told you so." You laughed and followed him out.

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