I know this episode was after Coal Digger, but it feels to write a chapter where it says end of summer, in the chapter before they mentioned school, it felt weird to not show anything of Summer and wrote it so that the first four episodes were Summer, so I just rearranged for continuity.
The Dunphy house was unusually quiet, a false sense of serenity before the storm of a school morning.
Ethan, fully dressed for his first day of high school, backpack slung over one shoulder, stood over Luke’s sleeping form.
His younger brother was a tangled mess of limbs and blankets, completely oblivious to the impending chaos.
“Luke,” Ethan whispered, his voice barely audible.
“Luke.” He tried a sing-songy, nursery rhyme approach, hoping to gently coax his brother awake.
When that yielded no results, he got tired of the charade.
“Luke!” he yelled, a sharp, impatient bark.
Luke startled awake, his eyes wide and confused.
“What?”
“Luke, what are you doing?
Get up!” Ethan demanded, already halfway out the door.
“Mom has been calling you for an hour now, you’re about to be late for your first day of fifth grade.”
“What?” Luke blinked, groggily looking at the digital clock next to his bed.
It screamed 8 o’clock.
His eyes shot open in horror.
“How did that happen?”
“Go, go, Mom is about to flip out.
She told me to get you while she waits in the car.” Ethan didn’t wait for a response, quickly retreating.
Luke, spurred into a panic, leapt out of bed.
He threw on clothes with frantic haste, tripping over his own feet.
He ran down to the kitchen, grabbed a box of cereal, pouring it directly into his mouth, crunching loudly.
He snatched the milk carton, taking a long swig, milk dribbling down his chin and onto the floor.
He finished getting dressed, brushed his teeth with vigorous, messy strokes, and then, in his rush to tie his shoelaces, knocked over a kitchen chair with a loud clatter.
Just then, Phil came shambling downstairs, still in his pajamas, clutching a baseball bat.
His hair was askew, his eyes wide with alarm.
“What are you doing?
What’s going on?” he whispered, ready to defend his home from intruders.
He then saw it was Luke, covered in milk and cereal crumbs.
Luke, still frantic, pointed towards the window.
“I’m getting ready for ” but as he looked outside, he realized it was pitch black.
A bewildered expression replaced his panic.
“School.”
Phil blinked, then looked out the window.
“School doesn’t start for another four hours.”
Just then, Claire came storming down the stairs, pulling on her robe, her face a mask of annoyance.
“What are you doing making all this noise?!”
Luke, close to tears, pointed an accusatory finger.
“It was Ethan!
He woke me up!
He changed my clock!”
Claire and Phil exchanged a bewildered glance, then trudged upstairs, Luke trailing behind them, still insisting on Ethan’s culpability.
They found Ethan’s bedroom door slightly ajar.
Inside, Ethan was fast asleep, tucked under his covers, completely oblivious in his pyjamas.
“I swear, he was just…” Luke started, his voice trailing off as he stared at his peacefully sleeping brother.
Claire sighed, shaking her head.
“Go back to bed, Luke.”
They all went back downstairs, Phil still clutching his bat, Luke now utterly bewildered.
As they descended, Ethan, perfectly still under his covers, let out a silent, proud smile.
His prank had landed perfectly.
Later that morning, the real morning, Ethan emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, running a hand through his damp hair.
Luke was lurking outside his door, clearly still recovering from the dawn raid.
“Luke,” Ethan began, feigning an air of grave seriousness.
“Dad asked me to give you some advice about middle school.”
He lowered his voice, almost to a whisper, as if imparting ancient, forbidden wisdom.
“It’s real simple: Don’t talk to anyone.
Don’t look at anyone.
Don’t go anywhere.
Don’t sit down.
Don’t raise your hand.
Don’t go to the bathroom.
Don’t get noticed.
Don’t choose the wrong locker.
Don’t…”
Ethan paused, a dramatic sigh escaping him.
“Ah, who am I kidding?” He broke into a smirk.
“You’ll be dead or homeschooled by the end of the year, anyway.
And don’t be seen with Manny.” He walked past Luke, leaving his younger brother standing in stunned silence.
Ethan quickly changed into a fresh band t-shirt and jeans, then headed downstairs.
Claire was already bustling in the kitchen, packing lunches.
“Okay, your brother’s lunch is packed,” Claire announced, tossing a brown paper bag onto the counter.
“You two are buying your own lunch.” She glanced at Ethan.
“Luke, Alex, come on, let’s go!”
Just then, Luke, finally ready for his actual first day, trudged into the kitchen, looking utterly exhausted.
Phil, ever the enthusiast, greeted him with a flourish.
“There he is, last chance for the summer handshake!” Phil and Luke began their elaborate, multi-step summer handshake, a complex series of fist bumps, spins, and air guitar moves.
Luke, however, stopped halfway through, a look of despair on his face.
“Dad?”
“Come on, we’re only halfway done,” Phil urged, trying to restart the sequence.
“I need help,” Luke confessed, his voice small.
“I was supposed to keep a journal all summer.
It’s due today.”
Claire groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Wow, first day of school, and you’re already behind?”
Luke let out a mournful groan.
“I’m dead.”
Claire, ever the problem solver, tried to help.
“All right, tell me how far you’ve gotten.”
Luke sighed.
“Okay.” He recited from memory.
“June 21st — found a stick.”
“Mm,” Claire encouraged, trying to sound supportive.
“June 22nd…” Luke paused, then finished, “That’s it.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“That’s it?”
“It was a really cool stick,” Luke insisted.
Phil, always ready to back his kids, chimed in, “He’s right.
It looked like a snake.”
Ethan, surprisingly, agreed.
“It was cool, I’ll be honest.”
Claire, sitting on the couch, looked utterly harried.
“Getting everybody out of the house in the morning can be really tough, especially the first day of school.”
Phil, beside her, chuckled, seemingly unaware of the difference in their morning routines.
“From the minute we get up at 7:00 till we drop them off at school, it is go, go, go.”
Claire glared at him.
“I get up at 6:00.”
Phil, oblivious, chuckled again.
“I get up at 5:00.”
“Seriously, I get up at 6:00,” Claire insisted, her voice rising.
Phil tilted his head, genuinely surprised.
“That’s you?
I th– I thought we had a raccoon.”
Just then, Alex came downstairs, struggling under the weight of an enormous cello case, several textbooks, and a backpack.
She looked like she was moving out.
Phil, still chuckling, called out, “Honey, you moving out?”
Alex grunted under her breath.
“Five more years.” She adjusted her grip, the cello case threatening to crush her.
“A little help here?”
Claire, ignoring Alex’s plea for help, pointed to the cello.
“This is why we suggested the violin.”
Alex responded “The cello is more in demand in university orchestras.”
Ethan, observing Alex’s struggle with detached amusement, offered his sage advice.
“What is wrong with you?
Why would you sign up for something you don’t have to do?
You’re supposed to fly below the radar, that way you never raise anybody’s expectations.”
Claire, clearly annoyed by Ethan’s unsolicited wisdom, fixed him with a stare.
“Thank you, Ethan, for those words of motivational wisdom.
Have you given any thought to University?”
Ethan, lounging on his bed, looked at the camera with a casual shrug.
“Mom is under this belief that I’m going to University, which is funny.”
He snorted.
“Because if I’m being honest, it’s never even crossed my mind.”
He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“And I haven’t really said I’m not going or that I am going, I just never corrected her assumptions, so if anything, it’s on her.”