I'm taking my parents to the airport yesterday. They're going to Laughlin, a place where My Fucking Father (and me) have been to twice but My Fucking Father hasn't yet. Please note that I am not going on this trip.
Before leaving, My Fucking Father told me to go to the Big Terminal. (There are two terminals that comprise MSP, a Big one and a Little one [my parlance], and they are separated by about a mile, connected by light rail..) However, while going to the airport, My Fucking Mother mentioned that they don't really know where they're going. I then told them that I tried looking up the status of the flight online, but I could not find a single record of that flight. "It's a ghost flight," I told them.
So I drop them off at The Big Terminal. A few minutes later I get a call from My Fucking Father. Of course it's the other terminal. So I turn around and pick them, though I mention to them that the two terminals are connected by light rail, but they don't know that, so, whatever.
And goddamn, they both fucking start yelling at me because they screwed up. "Why didn't you tell me that the flight didn't show up online? Then maybe we would call!" Mother bitched. First of all, if you don't know which terminal to go to, I don't think you were on-the-ball enough to keep the number to call. Second of all, WHY COULDN'T YOU FUCKING REMEMBER WHICH TERMINAL YOU'RE FLYING OUT OF????!!!!!!!!!
And then My Fucking Father turns out the most pathetic, self-centered excuse I have ever heard from this asshole: "I am 70 years old! I work so hard!! You do nothing!!!" First of all, he's 67. Second of all, I thought he shut down The Store. Third of all, I ain't your goddamn travel agent. Finally, WHY COULDN'T YOU FUCKING REMEMBER WHICH TERMINAL YOU'RE FLYING OUT OF???????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When I stop the car at the Little Terminal, My Fucking Father shot me a look. Fuck you, Father, this is your own goddamn fault. Again.
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So I was really pissed off and hurt while driving to the Mall of America. My mind was full of hate and revenge and anger. I even ended the call when My Fucking Father told me that they made it through to the gate on time without saying goodbye, which is usually what I (and I figure most people) do when I'm pissed off at someone.
But then I remembered something: The contract I had to sign to stay home. If I continue to maintain how right I am, they'll throw me out. Both my parents are acting like babies for not taking care of their own shit, but they do own the house.
That led me to do something that is totally beneath me and totally what I stand against: Apologizing for shit I didn't do. I didn't make them almost miss the flight because I'm not supposed to be responsible for their fucking arrangements. But if they are angry at me, and if I don't have any place else to go ... well, I don't have much of a leg to stand on, even though I'm right, right?
I can stay angry or I can try and make peace. I would rather stay angry. But for the sake of not fighting, I decided, once I was in the MOA parking ramp, to immediately call My Fucking Father and say, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys, and I won't make that mistake again." And he said, "o-kaaaaaaaaaaaay!" in that whiny voice that tells me he doesn't believe a word I say. Which is true. But maybe it'll work.
For good measure, several minutes later I say the same thing to My Fucking Mother. Trust me, I was gritting through my teeth when I "apologized." When husbands say sorry to their wives, do they sometimes not mean it like I just did? And do they do it just to make family life more peaceful? Really?
This is the first time I've ever did this, saying sorry when not meaning it. I am less of the man I want to be now that I apologized for something I didn't do. But if it lets me stay in the house, and if it will make them shut their goddamn mouths, I'll do it. And if it works, if me apologizing is the one thing they wanted to hear from me all this time, fine, I'll "say sorry" more.
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Oh, who am I kidding? They will (or at least My Fucking Father) will bring this subject back up because he's bitter like that. He'll raise it some time during what I would assume to be a peaceful dinner or something. He'll once again "teach" me that I have to be more responsible, and take care of my elders, even though I already do both, and more importantly, WHY COULDN'T YOU FUCKING REMEMBER WHICH TERMINAL YOU'RE FLYING OUT OF??????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I'll all say is, "Yes, Father, I didn't mean to disappoint you, Father, you always right, Father, whatever you say, Father." And he'll see through me and then throw me out of the house.
I should have just shut my mouth about researching the status of the flight for them. That way I wouldn't have any information that my parents' fucking little brains would make them think I was withholding them from. From now on, I won't do a goddamn thing for them unless they ask me. It's better that way.
Those are the two things that hurt: An innocent comment being used against me, and being blamed for something out of the blue. Typical coming from these parental units. And I get to see these motherfuckers back again on Friday. Yay.
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