So I get home from the University of Minnesota women's hockey championship, stopping by to see The Store (should talk about this soon), eating Taco Bell and working out at the gym at around 10. Father was upstairs; he still looks like crap from cataract surgery, but it looks like he can see.
I go take a bath and shower at midnight. In the bathroom I hear My Father going back up to the kitchen. Thought he was asleep. Oh well, he wants me to wash myself every day, so I'm going just have to turn the water on.
After I get done and leave the bathroom, I see that I left my bedroom door ajar and my nightlight on. I thought my parents were asleep downstairs. But My Fucking Father never is asleep. And since he can now see (I should talk about the cataracts sometime soon as well), he could see the piles of clothes I threw on my bed and the piles of papers I threw onto the floor. Therefore, one of these days, one real soon, he's going to nag at me again: "You need to clean up your room!"
Fucking Christ. Why didn't I just turn out the light and close my door?
No comments:
Post a Comment