I Swapped Dad for a Robot

By John Magee and Eleonora D'Amico

When presented with the opportunity to swap his dad for a state-of-the-art robot, Sam Smart doesn't hesitate for a moment.

His fateful decision creates a firestorm that will test him to his limits and make him question everything he once believed.

Sam must face the robot's fabulously wealthy and mysterious cre

• Language: English
• Publisher: Storycraft Publishing
• Release date: May 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9781739422127

John Magee

John lives in Omagh with his wife and sons. He is no stranger to danger, being the world's only fully qualified and licensed elephant juggler.In his spare time, he performs brain surgery and sends rockets to distant galaxies in search of new and exciting ice-cream flavours. But, sadly, he is yet to discover any to match the wonder that is Raspberry Ripple.Before age six, he invented the 10th letter of the alphabet. As well as claiming he can smell the colour purple, he has, on at least one occasion, lost the Empire State Building.A teller of tall stories, he delights in making children laugh at the strange world around them.

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Copyright © 2023 by John Magee

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No portion of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 1739 42210 3

Storycraft Publishing

www.storycraftpublishing.com

To Louise, Adam and Michael.

Contents

1. SOMETHING HAS TO BE DONE

2. AN INTERESTING IDEA

3. DEADLINE

4. SCAM

5. QUIET

6. PRE-DELIVERY TEAM

7. OLIVIA STEELE

8. WELCOME

9. THIRTY-SIX HOURS

10. HARD CHEESE

11. SCONES

12. PEACHES

13. THE LONGEST DAY – PART I

14. THE LONGEST DAY – PART II

15. THE LONGEST DAY – PART III

16. SCHOOL

17. HOW QUICKLY THINGS CHANGE

18. A CUNNING PLAN

19. FACTORY RESET

20. THAT IS A PICKLE

21. ONE MINUTE

22. THE OBVIOUS MISTAKE

23. I’M SORRY

24. HORROR STORY

25. SURPRISE!

26. RIVER

27. WARNING

28. DETENTION

29. OMMMMMM

30. PIZZA

31. FALLING APART

32. TROUBLE

33. FENG SHUI

34. BRAVERY

35. MOVING FORWARD

36. GOOD ADVICE

37. THE FINAL SHOWDOWN

38. NO GOING BACK

About The Author

1

SOMETHING HAS TO BE DONE

My Dad is the worst. Absolute rubbish. As if life isn’t already stressful enough for me as a twelve-year-old without him making it tougher. Perhaps if he’d ever been twelve himself, he would understand. It’s not even like I ask for much! Only the absolute basics; everyone my age has a right to expect.

I am Samuel Bartholomew Smart, but thankfully everyone calls me Sam. I live alone with my Dad, Robert John Smart, who everyone calls John or Mr Smart. My Mum was Mary Elizabeth Smart, but she died from cancer when I was little. Her death hit me hard and left me with a guy trying to win the world’s worst parent prize. Every week he finds new ways to annoy me. To get an idea of what I’m talking about, here are my notes from the past few days;

Fail One - Five minutes late picking me up from school. Of course, he has lots of excuses when he has forced me to wait; he had to get petrol, the traffic was terrible, the car got a puncture…blah...blah…blah. He even had the nerve to try and blame me once by claiming he was there on time, but I hadn’t seen him. As if it’s my fault, he couldn’t get parked at the space I specifically told him to use!

When will he understand that every minute I spend at the school gates is a minute of my gaming life I can never get back?

Fail Two - Unable to fix broadband that was down for an hour. I know. Right? You feel my pain. Well, he didn’t. He acted as if having no internet wasn’t that big a deal.

Can I look at it after I’ve finished making the dinner? he pleaded.

And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? I screamed back.

He left the kitchen and came upstairs to the office where I was trying to game, What seems to be the problem then?

I assumed the steam from the cooking had clogged up his ears and messed with his brain, so I repeated myself slowly, There…is…no…internet!

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This seemed to have gotten through as he began fiddling with the cables. But it didn’t make any difference. Finally, he glanced at the router, the red light is flashing.

I gave him my best sarcastic slow hand clap, Well done, genius! I already knew that.

He made matters worse by trying to explain, But that means there’s a fault with the internet provider. So, we just have to wait for them to sort it out on their end.

I couldn’t believe what I had just heard, Tell me, Dad, would you say the same thing if the planet stopped getting oxygen?

He blinked at me with a stupid blank look before answering, No! But that’s not the same thing, is it? If the planet had no oxygen, we would all be dead.

Exactly! I said as if I had won the argument.

What do you mean? I don’t understand the point you’re trying to make, he said, staring at me.

Honestly! I don’t even know why I bother explaining things to him. Trying to train a monkey to ride a bike while juggling would be easier.

Just call the internet company and get them to sort it! I blasted.

It was twenty minutes before Dad got through to someone and another thirty minutes before the light on the router finally changed from flashing red to solid green. I said nothing and immediately began playing a new game of Dead Hippo Avalanche.

A thank you would be nice, he muttered as he left the room.

The cheek of him!

I shouted back, Why should I thank you? It was the person at the internet company who did all the hard work. He didn’t answer. Instead, I heard him suddenly sprint downstairs. It turned out he had left something cooking on the hob and burnt dinner, but luckily, I saved the day by ordering a pizza delivery using his credit card. And did he thank me for that? Of course not!

Fail Three - Cooking the same meals. I watch people on the internet make fabulous food all the time. It’s so easy. A bit of steak, a little lobster…biff…baff…boof….one delicious meal. But Dad uses the excuse that we’re on a budget for his bland cooking. He won’t admit that the real problem is his lack of imagination. I suspect people in prison have more exciting dinners than I do.

Fail Four - Not knowing how to do my homework. Sometimes I’m busy in school talking to my best friend, Ryan Kent, while the teacher is explaining something new to the rest of the class. Yet, when I get home and ask Dad to show me what I need to do, he’s worse than useless.

Didn’t your teacher explain this to you in class? he’ll ask accusingly.

I didn’t hear her.

Why not?

Because I was talking.

Perhaps you should call Ryan and ask him to tell you?

That wouldn’t help.

Why?

Because he was the person I was talking with! I answer, rolling my eyes at his stupidity.

Dad then shuffles out of the room, only to return moments later, pretending he suddenly remembered the answer to my question. But, of course, he’s not fooling me; I know perfectly well he just looked it up on his mobile. Even I could have done that! What a phoney!

I’m convinced this problem will only worsen as my homework gets more challenging.

Fail Five - Awful jokes that are just not funny. When a man becomes a dad, they must remove the part of the brain that stops the rest of us from telling bad jokes. If you think I’m exaggerating, try some of these things he’s forced me to hear;

What’s brown and sticky?

A stick.

How do you get a girl’s attention in the countryside?

A tractor.

Why are elevator jokes so funny?

They work on many levels.

What do you call a pudgy psychic?

A four-chin teller.

What do you call it when a group of apes starts a company?

Monkey business.

I am worried dad jokes could spread, and we all become infected. If that happened, it would be the end of civilisation.

Fail Six - Trying to get me to spend time with him. As I’ve already mentioned, I’m twelve. That means I want to spend time with my friend Ryan. I definitely don’t want to spend time with my ancient Dad. What normal person my age would want to do that? Yet he stubbornly refuses to accept this simple fact.

Hey, son, do you want to make brownies together?

No.

Hey, son, a good film is coming on; want to watch it with me?

No.

Hey, son…

No! No! No! A million times no!

Fail Seven - Not immediately washing my favourite top. Let’s be clear: I’m not asking him to crawl on his hands and knees for miles to a river and beat my dirty clothes over rocks with his bare hands. There’s a washing machine in the house that does all the hard work. How much effort does it take him to press a few buttons? It’s just laziness, you know. If he had his way, he would try to get away with doing laundry only once a week!

Fail Eight - Getting my grocery order wrong. I left the worst offence to last. This failure took place within the last hour, and it’s still a bit raw. I wanted him to buy me a packet of Giant Skittles. To help him, I even wrote Giant Skittles down on a note so he wouldn’t forget. But what does he come back with? A giant bag of regular Skittles.

Sorry, son, but they’ll taste the same, he said when I pointed out his mistake.

Taste the same? I think not! You need to go back to the shop this minute and buy the right thing!

But instead of doing as I asked, he had a ready answer,

It’s a sales gimmick. If you pop three or four smaller ones in your mouth, it will feel and taste exactly the same. he insisted.

Was he deliberately trying to annoy me?

If they were the same thing, then tell me since you’re such an expert. Why would the company make giant ones? I challenged him.

Dad began to open his mouth with another smart answer, but without thinking, I blurted out, I wish you had died and not mum!

He stood there looking at me. Neither angry nor upset. He seemed more lost. As if he didn’t belong here anymore. I stormed out of the room, ran upstairs and slammed my bedroom door so hard the whole house shook. I’d never been so angry! And it was all his fault for making me say such a horrible thing.

I decided there and then that this couldn’t continue. After all, I had been more than fair. Time after time, I gave him chances to improve and get his act together. But, if anything, he was only getting worse. So, I promised myself that, given the first opportunity, I would finally do something about it.

2

AN INTERESTING IDEA

Istayed in my room until nearly midnight, but my stomach was now making loud grumbling noises, and I knew only a late snack would keep it quiet. After watching the news, Dad usually went to bed around 10:30 p.m., so the coast would be clear. I tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as possible to avoid waking him. To my surprise, the living room door was slightly open, and a thin line of light shone into the hallway. I crept over to the door and peeked inside.

He was sitting on the sofa with his back to me. The television was off, and he was staring at something on his lap as he mumbled, You know best, dear. I’ll make the call.

I thought he must be talking to someone on his mobile phone, but I didn’t hear anyone answer. Slowly he lifted the object, and I could now see it was a framed photo of mum. He brought it slowly to his lips and gently kissed the glass. My stomach growled angrily again to remind me why I had come downstairs. I backed away from the living room and slipped into the kitchen, but the light suddenly came as I reached for the fridge door.

I spun around to find Dad standing beside the light switch, You made me jump! I gasped, placing my hand on my heart. But, unusually for him, he didn’t offer an apology. Instead, he walked to the counter, muttering, I just need my phone.

Who are you calling at this time of night? I found myself unexpectedly asking. Usually, I wouldn’t care, but his strange behaviour in the living room had made me curious. He picked up his mobile and said quietly, an old friend.

Then he was gone.

That was weird.

I shrugged and got on with the more important business of making my snack. Minutes later, I walked back along the hallway, but the living room door was firmly shut this time. I could hear Dad talking but couldn’t make out any words. My stomach growled again, and I hurried upstairs.

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The next morning Dad knocked on my bedroom door to wake me as usual. I got showered and dried before picking out a freshly laundered shirt for school. I was expecting him to lay a big guilt trip on me for what I had said the previous evening, but when I entered the kitchen, I found him whistling. He never whistled. But that wasn’t the only surprise.