|
|
The Waiting Game One of these days, I’ll get up the courage to confront my father. I’ll say, "Dad, you act like a child, and I refuse to deal with it anymore." That’s what I’ll say when I confront him. That I haven’t confronted him yet is my mother’s doing. She taught me to respect my elders, to always say "please" and "thank you", and to be nice to all the relatives...after all, they might leave me something in their wills. Morbid, but practical. Always be practical and polite, that was what my mother taught me. Practical I’m working on, but my impulsive nature keeps getting in the way. Polite I’m good at, better than most my age, or any age for that matter. I say "please" and "thank you" and I respect my elders. I’m a nice person. But when it comes to my father, I’m tired of being nice. He uses his age as an excuse for everything. He’s old and forgetful, which is why he doesn’t always pay attention when he’s driving. He’s going to retire in a few years, so he can’t afford to buy this or that for us (never mind that he spends hundreds of dollars expanding his model car collection). He’s set in his ways, so I can’t get him to eat healthy or pick up his socks or bathe more than once a year. My father is almost exactly like his father, only with a better education. If this was all there was to it, I would confront my father today. There is more. I am afraid. I am not afraid of my father, but rather of what he could do to slow the progression of events in my life. I rely on my father for food, clothing, shelter, transportation, and money. Soon, though, I will be able to move on, to support myself. Until then, I am afraid. I am afraid that my father, with his childish method of dealing with situations he doesn’t like, will make it impossible for me to move on. I know he wants me to stay, but I’m not really living here. I’ve become stagnant, stifled, dead. I need to move on, and can’t do anything that might jeopardize my chance to do that. So I wait for my cue. When I have my car and my job and my apartment, then I’ll confront my father. I’ll say, "Dad, you act like a child, and I refuse to deal with it anymore." That’s what I’ll say when I confront him...one of these days. Content Copyright © 2002 L. Force unless otherwise noted. You hear that? It's mine. All mine! Steal it, and I'll come after you with a rusty spoon. Then I'll make you drink water from that rusty spoon and you'll gag because drinking water from a rusty spoon is disgusting and you'll get really upset because you should have known better than to steal my friggin material. So, um, don't steal. If you think I'm brilliant enough to quote, tell me and provide a link back here. Thanks muchly. Want another disclaimer? Click here. |