Apparently, I have more things to worry about than just Brandy’s visit;
Dad had a crucial meeting late last evening so he forced Kathryn and me to go to sleep early so that we wouldn’t disturb him. Is that fair?? Do I make everyone go to bed at SEVEN O’CLOCK [I kid you not!!] when I have a big test the next day?? Shouldn’t he have locked himself up in the guest room instead??
Oh, and THAT isn’t the worst part.
This morning, he was all happy and when I made the mistake of asking him why he was smiling so much, he said, ‘Sweetie, sit down. I’ve got a little favour to ask.’ And from THAT moment, I knew that I could pretty much kiss my Lazy Saturday goodbye.
Daddy told me all about his all-important conference yesterday and ended with, ‘So, about the favour… I need you to start talking like… like normal teenagers.’ ‘Dad, I’m eleven and… WHAT!!??!??’ It occurred to me three seconds later that my father has just accused me of talking ABNORMALLY. Did he just tell me, to MY FACE, that I’m a peculiar speaker??
‘It’s not that you’re ABNORMAL, of course. It’s just that the kids today are a little less…’ ‘Little less WHAT, Dad?? Little less WHAT???’ I asked, already storming out of the room.
I’m all for people expressing themselves, but since WHEN is it alright for fathers to tell their kids that they’re ODD??
That’s it. That was SO TOTALLY the LAST straw. I am NEVER going to LOOK at my Dad ever again and that’s FINAL.