File this under: Reasons I’m going to hell

I think that some people assume that I am different around different people.  That would be a big, fat no.  Never.  I am who I am who I am.  I knew a girl, once, who was like tofu.  I swear to you, I could almost watch her personality shift as she glommed onto new people who came into the room.  I resolved to never be different people in different situations.  I am real.  And true to myself.  I mean, I know when to stay quiet (although I kinda still suck at that), and generally speaking, I know time and place.  I try not to swear in front of children.  I try to speak, in difficult situations, in a way that is productive.  I try to be supportive, but firm.  I’m not always successful at this.  Hence, today’s post:

My daddy is a wonderful man and I love him dearly.  He can be, though, a little on the needy side.  There are three things that he has to have all. the. time.  Soda (Pepsi, in particular), cigarettes (he’s been smoking for, like, 58 years.  No joke), and beer (Budlight).  And when any one of these run out, it’s like the end of the universe.  He will call, over and over and over again, until he reaches me and I take him to the store.

Yesterday, I was busy.  Not just busy, like I have things to do like everyone does.  I mean, swamped.  Buried, if you will.  And, seriously, he calls no less than 9 times in an hour.  No message.  Just call after call.  I figure that it must be a fake emergency, because when it is a real emergency (death and/or destruction), he leaves messages.

Finally, I answer and he tells me the news: he’s out of cigarettes.  *gasp* (That was a sarcastic gasp.  Just wanted to make sure you read it correctly).  So I tell him I will pick him up around noon and we’ll go.  I ask him, “Is there anywhere else you need to go?”  He says no.  But lo and behold, when I pick him up… he needs to go, not only to get smokes, but also beer.  Oh, and KFC.  I couldn’t even stop myself and I say:

SONOFAMOTHERFUCKING BITCH!  Are you KIDDING me?  I asked you not even *2* hours ago if you had anywhere else to go!

He looks at me, at that moment, like I was going to catch on fire and physically moves his boy as far from me as possible, while I am driving 35 miles an hour.  I am flustered.  And suddenly I realize that I am a horrible daughter.

I take a deep breath and sigh.  “I’m sorry, dad.  I’ll take you. I’m sorry if I make you feel bad.  I’m just swamped at work right now.”  And I did take him.

But, just so you know: my inappropriateness knows no bounds.  I’m a lot of things, but a fake isn’t one of them.  I say nothing I don’t mean.  To a fault.

Yesterday, though, the devil put a little notch next to my name.


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