Tonight my father laughed AT me instead of with me. And then laughed more when he realized I wasn’t laughing. It’s too painful for me to write a full post about, but I feel the need to publicize my humiliations.
I bring to you, dear reader (father), our evening replayed in point form. (You know, in case you want to relive the experience):
– My Dad had the nerve to debate with me about XMen, and then laughed when my anxiety took over at the possibility that he MAY actually be right. (He wasn’t … but the thought that he could be was terrifying)
– While explaining my tshirt (Teefury: Cyber3-PO and R2Dalek. Eg. AWESOME) I googled a picture of a Dalek and my Dad asked “WHY are you showing me this?” I started to explain my shirt again and he interrupted with “No. Really. Why?”
– When I asked my Dad if we could do Daddy-Daughter days on Thursdays he laughed so hard he started to wheeze, tears in his eyes … I still don’t know why.
It’s the Pocahontas incident all over again.
PS. I like Mom better.