Saturday, November 17, 2007
**c**oaches... eeeeeeeewwwww
My father will bloody well drive me nuts one day.
First of all, he refuses to catch the stupid things when they attack me. Isn't that what fathers are supposed to do? Catch creepy-crawlies for their daughters? He'll indulge my mom's and my brother's hysterics over lizards but he refuses to catch c-*those* things for me. And when i say hysterics, my mom's really are. We get bloodcurdling screams out of the blue that make the whole household jump, no matter where you are in the house.
Now, I firmly state that I do *not* scream when a c- *one of them* attacks me. I squeal. Or shout. Softly. I do *not* wake the dead. You do not hear me from the next room. I simply run away to where my mum is and tell her that there is a c- *that* in my room. My Bloody Father not only refuses to catch them but spends the next five minutes complaining about me making a fuss. He says I scream and jump for nothing. AND JUST NOW HE SAID HE HATED IT BECAUSE IT WAS SO
ARTIFICIAL. WTH? You complain I make too much noise. I don't scream and you complain I'm so artificial? WTH is that? In the first place why would I be pretending to a phobia I don't have?
I think the bloody things are disgusting as hell. They are ugly as sin. Those hairy legs and wavy long feelers give me the creeps. The flying ones are even worse because they're so
mobile and have the terrifying potential to land in your hair. Just talking about them makes my skin crawl. Even the name of that detestable insect is hateful. I don't even like pictures of the thing. Like the one in my Pri 3 student's science textbook? Or the eyesore of a bus adverstisement for Baygon? I just try not to look at them. I let my eyes slide off or stop focusing and look at something else instead.
I don't understand why my Bloody Father thinks I'm pretending to be scared of the stupid things. You think I like being chased away from my precious laptop by a disgusting insect? So he refuses to catch them - one might almost think he objects to them himself(except that I've seen him catch them before) - but can't he just have the decency to shut up about it? No, he has to spend the next few hours harping on about "Just a stupid ** why must scream and jump about?" and telling me to shut up about it and saying I'm so fake. AND I've established, I DO NOT scream OR jump. I only apply a strategic retreat. He doesn't belittle my mother's fear of lizards when she really
does scream. What's his bloody problem with
me?
Grrarghh. Why can't I have a normal loving father who defends me from scary things? Where's my hero figure? I've heard that fathers are supposed to dote on their daughters more. Is that a myth? Or just happening in some other reality
where I'm not included?Sometimes when I see my old baby pictures, or the way he acts with the two dogs we have, I wonder if he only was interested in playing with me as a child because I was 'cute' then. (He's totally biased towards the younger dog and always scolds our first dog Princess when the small dog had been harrassing her in the first place.) Now that I'm all grown up I'm not a cute little kid to play with any more so all he's interested in is scolding me, complaining about everything I do, finding more things to pick on.
Sometimes, in my more charitable moments, I think it 's because he doesn't know what to do with me as a young adult instead of a kid. Maybe he even resents me for growing up too fast. (I was a rather bookish kid. Didn't play as much as I should have.) Still, that's no excuse for being biased. I don't like prejudice or narrow-mindedness. He does it a lot. Like with racial stereotypes and that sort of thing. It's so annoying, especially when it's prejudice against me.
Labels: Censored, Kvetch
mon chef d'oeuvre
11:13 pm
__Mary Had
0 little lamb(s)__
0 agnelet:
Give lamb to Mary
x Mémoire