I can’t even tell you how much I hate my father. Imagine being around someone you despise, and then multiply that feeling until you’re at the point where the way they breathe is a good enough excuse to make you want to rip their lungs out. That’s how I feel about him. He’s the only person on planet earth I feel this way about. There are a few people on Mars, but other than that I usually am a non hateful person.
Today was SOOOO stupid. I was supposed to come home at 7:15 like normal, which was an agreed upon time the day I got there. Instead he suddenly decides that he doesn’t want to be home until 9. We were out at the lake today, so his excuse was that he didn’t want to be caught in traffic. It was 90 degrees in the shade today; there’s going to be traffic. He makes this big deal about it, and then once the day is done (I’ll get into details in a minute, because there are lots) we end up leaving about half an hour later than we would’ve if we had wanted to be on time. He even started taking his time so that we wouldn’t be so early. I wanted to kill him. I actually wrote the first paragraph while sitting in the car with him, haha. I had to keep looking out the window so I wouldn’t murder him.
He’s hell bent about inconveniencing my mother, but what he doesn’t realize is that he’s also messing with me. Not to mention he looks like a jackass while he does it. And THEN once we got home, an hour and a half early, he says to me “so, your mom could come and get you now”. I had to take a deep breath. And THEN he goes on to start cooking dinner, but not make any for me because he’s kicking me out. Guess who comes over within a few minutes of me leaving? Just guess, I dare you. His fucking girlfriend. I won’t be going down there until thanksgiving. And that’s a bit too early. I might go down for Christmas but only because I want presents. My family won’t be getting together anymore like it used to down there, so I have no reason to bother going down. It’d just be a night with my dad and his girlfriend (who might then be his wife) and my sister. I’d much rather be visiting with the good half of my family.
Ok, so getting into the details of today. First was his little macho ‘I’m going to decide what time things happen’ tantrum. Then he decides that he’s going to bring his 20 year old boat out with us to the lake, so we can go tubing. I don’t like tubing. I’d much rather cost along in my kayak. He’s too stupid to understand that until he’s set it all up and you’re screaming it at him so his tiny brain can understand it behind his thick skull. So we get the boat set up, we take it all the way out to the boat launch (actually we went to our property first and ate, which made my dad mad that we weren’t doing things in a certain order, so he had a tantrum about that too) only to find that it wouldn’t start. My sister and I had to spend 20 minutes rowing a freakin’ speed boat with dingy little wooden oars back to our property.
And then once we got it all the way back there, it still didn’t start. My dad spent the whole day trying to fix it, while my sister and I spent all day out in the middle of the lake working on our tans. After working on it all day, where do you think it ended up? In my dad’s driveway. It still wouldn’t start so my sister and I had to row it all the way back over to the boat launch. We got over there and had to wait god knows how long for my dad to drive the truck over. He decided he needed to stop and smoke somewhere in between the half mile to the launch. I had to sit and listen to some guy tell me I looked like a stoner because my hair was a mess. I just told him it’d been a rough day. Which was true. But I think the fact that I ran out of hair jell three days ago had a bit more of an impact.
Anyway, you know the rest of the story from there. We set up the boat, took it home and then my mom came and got me. I can’t believe how nice it feels to be back home! My dogs! My nice beautiful yard! My enormous warm bedroom! My dads house was freezing because he had the AC way up. But I’m back in a house where the AC is rarely used and the dogs run wild and the yard isn’t taken care of by a group of hard working “Mexicans”. My dad refers to his yard crew as “my Mexicans”. He was talking to his girlfriend on his phone and even said “yeah I got my Mexicans working in my yard right now”. I swear, one day he’s going to be killed. And I’m going to laugh and say “thanks for the money asshole”. It’s good to be home. Hahahaha.