I think my dad just pissed me off for the first time since I was . . . 5? The rents split when I was 5 and I lived with my mom for most of the childhood. Since dad wasn't around punishing us all the time, it was easy for us to put him up on a pedestal. And we did. We all did. I've kept him there this whooooole time. He was super dad who took care of everything. Balancing act supreme, always working his ass off to make everybody happy.
So today he asks how things are going with Hotty McHotterton. Good, I say. Except there have been occasions where I cry and I can't help it. (Like the odd incident in his room with the other chickie.) Anyway, my mom used to be a cryer before she and dad split. And, uh, the prozac. So instead of giving me a supportive, "I'm sorry about that, honey. Anything I can do?" he gives me a, "don't keep that up. He'll get tired of it and stop being nice to you." Great, dad. That definitely helps. And makes me feel better. Do you know women at all? No. I think you would walk across fire for yours, and all others are considered less than and high maintenance. No more talking to dad about the love life. That made me feel like shit. Now I want a cigarette.
Of course, cigarettes make your birth control inactive. F*#k. Even better for the relationship: a baby. Thanks a lot, dad.
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