The lucky charm—Alex
January started with Alex's giggles and Cisco's stock climbing to $6 (⇑20%). Coincidence? Claire thought not.
Claire: "Alex is our lucky charm. Neil is smiling more, Phil sold two houses in two months, and Jay's been in a good mood all month. That's basically a miracle."
Phil: "These kids are my feng-shui!"
Claire: "Honey, feng-shui is furniture!"
Phil: "Oh—Apt for Hailey, I guess. But Alex and Neil? They are my luck charms. Alex gurgles when I close a sale. It's like I have my own mascot. Neil? If house is a woman, then he is my wingman. Only that he helps selling the house, instead of buying one!"
Claire: —facepalm—stares at the camera.
Alex drooled on cue.
Neil (inner): Every party needs a Loli mage. Alex drools and pees but also buffs morale. Fine. Baby mage, welcome to the team.
[Team Chat] +1 Member
---
Feb 1996 — Grandpa's House
My mornings belonged to water now. Jay's pool was my dojo.
I hated it. At least at first. Then I was too overconfident. "I am the lastwaterbender." confident.
---
One Day in February:
"Mom! My arms hurt!" I wailed, flopping on the deck like a soggy pancake.
Claire: "Neil. How dare you say that. Pritchett are in no habit of quitting. You wanted this! Remember how much you hassled me for this."
"...Just keep swimming." Claire said. I thought of a blue and black fish with dementia—but angry.
Mitchell crouched down. "Neil, buddy, you were born to swim. I mean, not literally, that would be weird. But you're really good at this. Once you are wet, you won't even feel the pain."
Neil: (ಥ_ಥ) stop with the innuendos.
Jay puffed his cigar. "He whines like Phil, but he works harder than him. That's the difference."
----
Interview:
Mitchell: "He's three. He already knows strokes I barely learned in middle school. He's like a little fish. I was more of a… cat. With water phobia."
Neil: Every splash, every breath—this is my redemption arc. My last life, I skipped this. This time, I'll master it. Even if I tantrum along the way. It is just that the sore muscles really hurt.
---
Hailey sat on the edge, feet in the water, chanting, "Hahahaha! Stupid Brother!"
Alex gurgled. I heard motivation.
---
Next Month
I decided to jog with Claire.
First, I wanted to start with proper physical training. But what three-year-old can train his body with weights? It's not scientific — not in this world, anyway. So, swimming and running were my best bets.
Swimming? Already started last year. Progress steady. Muscles: unlocked (sort of). Now, after months of readiness, it was time to tackle the next task: running.
Of course, my parents weren't having it. Typical "you're too young" excuse. How do I tell them I don't want to just run? I want to begin the bald man training regime from the neighborhood:
100 push-ups
100 sit-ups
100 squats
A 10-kilometer (6.2 miles) run
The holy grail of becoming… a caped man with questionable fashion sense.
But Claire crossed her arms. "Neil, you'll slow me down. And jogging is my thinking time."
I pouted. "I can do it!"
Phil (interview): "Jogging? Great idea! I used to jog, then I realized… I could just drive slower."
Three blocks later, I was panting like a winded pug. Claire slowed down and sat with me on a park bench. She wiped sweat; I swung my short legs, wheezing.
She smirked, lips curled, cheeks high. "What do you think? Still want to run more?"
I groaned. "Now I know why they invented cars."
Claire laughed so hard other joggers turned their heads.
Claire (interview): "I might have ran a little too fast for him to catch up. You shouldn't challenge a Pritchett."
---
Homeschool Chaos
Mom agreed to keep me home another year—on one condition: I had to "help teach Hailey."
Big mistake.
I taught her letters and numbers better than the workbook. She taught me… oppression.
"Neil, sit here! You're my husband in the dollhouse. You can't leave!"
"Hailey, I want a divorce."
"No!"
---
Interview:
Claire: "Honestly? He's teaching her more than I am. But also, he's teaching her about divorce at age three. So… pros and cons."
Neil (inner): The dollhouse is a prison. My freedom is at stake. But it's better than kindergarten glue-eaters. [Tactical aversion: skill activated].
---
The Bedroom Shuffle
By late summer, Claire and Phil moved Alex into their room permanently—for few years.
My reward? My own room.
Neil (inner): Victory. My private sanctuary.
But I planned further. The house had a sealed basement. One day, Luke would come. Sharing? Not happening.
Step one: enjoy private room.
Step two: manipulate parents into basement renovation.
Step three: permanent man cave.
Phil (interview): "He acted like we gifted him a mansion. He touched the walls and whispered, 'Mine.' I should be proud. Or scared. I swear, I heard him mutter My Precious at some point."
----
August 1996—Dunphy's House
I had the perfect plan for breakfast today: pancakes, syrup, and planting seeds. (Metaphorical ones. Actual seeds would just get me grounded.)
Claire was checking mine and Hailey's math homework from last night. Hailey was sprawled on the floor grumpily, sulking about the big red potato on her report card. (It was supposed to be a tomato, but the teacher's penmanship was as bad as Hailey's subtraction.)
I was better—basically perfect.
"Wow, Mom, you're so good at math."
Claire blinked. "What?"
"I read in Wired: if you know math, you know computers. Look." I pushed over page 28 of last week's issue.
The Equation for Code: How Math Shapes Computational Thinking.
Her fork froze midair.
Claire (inner):How does he even understand the meaning of that title? I mean, I'm a genius, but… 'computational thinking'? What even is that?
She recovered. "That's not true, honey. I'm good at accounts, but that's not necessarily math. They're different subjects."
I tilted my head innocently. "But you understand the market, right? Your explanations are always better than Dad's… balloon examples. Account is not market."
Her eyes widened—proud. Smug.
"Well… yes."
I pressed the advantage. "At Christmas, Dad didn't want to buy stocks. You convinced him. I heard Grandpa say the money almost doubled now. Mom, you're a genius."
Neil (inner):Hook. Line. Sinker. Compliment + Cisco reminder = spark lit. She'll think it's her idea. Manipulation skill: toddler-tier, still effective.
Claire coughed. "Neil. You shouldn't say that. That was a family decision."
Neil (inner):At least hide your smug smirk, Mom. Your poker face is worse than Phil's golf swing.
Claire (interview): "I can't tell my children I'm the smart one. But… genes aren't wasted. And truth? Can't be hidden."
Cut to Hailey gagging dramatically on a wax candle she found on the kitchen counter.
Claire (interview):…Maybe I'm wrong about the genes.
---
November.
Our first PC arrived. A beige tower, a monitor that weighed more than me, and Windows NT humming like a jet engine preparing for takeoff.
Claire and Phil hovered around the box like it was radioactive. Two thousand dollars for a computer — in 1997 money. That was more than Phil's car.
---
Interview:
Claire: "Two thousand dollars. On a machine that… clicks? Honestly, it felt like gambling. But Neil kept saying it was necessary. And when an almost four-year-old says necessary with that much conviction, you start to wonder if maybe he knows something you don't."
Phil: "It wasn't just a purchase. It was… an investment. Claire called it that. I called it a 'we're eating cereal for the next three months' kind of investment."
I had played it perfectly. A few lines from Wired, a reminder about how the world was moving forward, and some toddler-level guilt-tripping: "Mom, what if Alex needs this for school one day? Don't you want her to be prepared?"
Hook, line, sinker. Everyone in the house has already determined that they have one more genius in the family. So far, only Hailey seemed to have won the Dunphy lottery that grandma spoke about. Mom's word. And Mitchell's. And Grandpas.
Neil (inner):Future secured. Beige beast acquired. Step one toward dragging the Dunphy household into the digital age: complete. Step two: gather up the startup capital for Y2K boom.
---
Claire sat down first. "Okay. I'm going to… log in. How?"
She typed her name in the textbox. Hit Enter. Nothing happened.
Phil leaned over. "Try typing 'password.' That works on TV."
I facepalmed.
I climbed onto the chair, logged in using the default credentials that came with the documentation. #RTFM
Phil gasped. " My child is a tech wizard!"
---
Interview:
Claire: "According to the Wired article I read month ago. Maybe I didn't read-read. But I'm supposed to be good at computers. I guess you can't trust commercial. Anyway, we had to buy one eventually. Neil is growing too fast for us to answer his questions. I heard on Internet you can find any answer. How cool is that? I just learnt how to sew sweater. Guess what the children would be getting for Christmas this year? hehehe"
Neil: This isn't Hogwarts. It's literally two buttons. Ctrl + C and Ctrl + V. Maybe three buttons.
'Please, someone invent YouTube tutorials already.'
---
Weeks later, Claire fiddled on the PC, clumsy fingers tapping; slowly—one letter a second. She has found a new hobby recently. She goes to different forums on Internet and gets rage baited. I guess the term doesn't exist yet.
Neil (inner): do I have a chance of becoming the father of Internet Language? POG!
She especially likes the rare forums that discuss her favorite TV Shows. One day she shouted while reading something on the Internet. "Hah! I told you b*tch! You should have listened to me!"
Whole family took up a bet on what made her so excited. No one won the bet. The reason was that she had a fight on the forum about the cliff hanger of one of her soap dailies latest episodes. And Mom was right. The Doctor didn't actually die; he came back as a different doctor after plastic surgery. 90s was/is a wild time.
---
"So… if people buy books on Amazon…" she muttered one day.
I was watching one of Hailey's favorite cartoons with her when my ears perked up with expectation.
She is finally coming around. Mission Progress: 90%
She tilted her head in contemplation. "Maybe, they will buy Closets to? right?"
Mission Progress: 95%
Phil: "Yes. Let's have our own Closet.com! …No wait, that sounds bad."
The family laughed, but Claire's eyes glowed with a new sparkle.
Mission Progress: 100%
---
Interview:
Claire: "Maybe I don't need to pick between home and work; I can just do both. Handle sales and marketing from home. Yesterday Neil like usual was bugging me with his questions: why Amazon sells books and not houses? It was then that I thought of the website; but… it is still my credit. Now, I need to learn online marketing. I heard Neil mention something about SEO. Added to the checklist."
Neil (inner): Step one: PC acquired... Step two: plant the seed of brand website... Step three: Solve mom's regret of leaving her job... Step four: Push Dunphy's forward on the path of the Internet... Perfect.
---
Daily Life Montage
Morning: Jogging. Swimming lessons. Complaining, then nailing strokes.
Late morning: Watch CNBC. Take Alex on a house tour (castle in her mind). Dad tags along.
Afternoon: Dollhouse marriage. "Sit down, husband!" ~Hailey
Evening: Homework for me. Doodles for Hailey. Computer basics for Mom.
Night: Wired magazines by lamplight, Alex giggling nearby. Mom cooking dinner. Dad watching the baseball highlights.
---
Interview (other members with less on-script time lately):
Mitchell: "He swims like a prodigy. At three. Meanwhile, I doggy-paddle."
Jay: "Kid asks more questions than my accountant. And that guy charges me extra for breathing."
Phil: "Every time CNBC says 'NASDAQ,' I nod like I know. I don't. I really don't. Claire is the CFO of the house. I'm the CEO."
---
Reflection — Neil's Diary
By November 22nd, the calendar was about to circle my fourth birthday.
1997 had been a year of milestones:
• Alex, the lucky charm. Acquired.
• Swimming proficiency unlocked.
• Stamina upgraded (though tantrums still part of the package).
• Dollhouse victories—earned at the cost of my pride.
• Homeschool oppression—survived.
• A room of my own secured.
• And, finally, the arrival of The Beige Beast—our family computer.
But the year wasn't over.
Next week, right before Christmas, there was the third graders' swim meet at the local Swimming Club—sponsored, of course, by Pritchett's Closets.
Jay had submitted my name as a participant, bragging that my strokes were cleaner than most ten-year-olds. On paper, it sounded heroic. In reality, it was also my grandfather risking his grandson's life in a pool of snot-filled water just to justify the sponsorship money.
Neil (inner):Classic Jay. Pride first, logic second. I'm not sure if he loves me or the branding opportunity more.
As for the family… the party was slowly leveling up. They even earned new Titles.
• Claire, new role: Computer Sorceress in Training.
• Phil, unchanged: Bard of Balloon Analogies.
• Hailey, still: Chaos Gremlin.
• Alex: Baby Mage, buffing morale.
• Jay: Merchant-General, profit above all.
• Mitchell: Sarcasm Caster, Level 5.
• Me: Party Strategist, Level 4 (almost).
And the next dungeon loomed ahead.
The Abyssal Labyrinth of Hydro-Doom.Boss level: Third-Grade Swim Meet.
I was ready. (Probably.)
---
AN: I'm rushing through the story—at least for the beginning—because I want to quickly get to the Hollywood part of the Dunphy of Hollywood. If you want me to flush out more day-to-day shenanigans of the Dunphy x Pritchett families. Do leave a comment. My reasoning for not doing so is that currently not all the members of the original show are present in the timeline. Manny and Luke aren't even born. I don't want to saturate my writing with those tropes now and be left with nothing imaginative when the 2009—Modern family pilot—rolls around.