This is what I get for trusting him.
Putting this story in quotes, because there are some people who just hate it when I open up.
Today is Monday. Every Monday night at 7:00 p.m., I have court mandated group therapy.
Because of my dad's history with pushing deadlines to the last possible second and beyond, I've set a clear boundary that I absolutely will not drive him down to that time-consuming money pit of a remodel job on Mondays. (And if you think I'm being paranoid, trusting him around deadlines like that is the reason I'm banned from Tigard Family Dental.)
So naturally, yesterday evening, Dad asked what I was doing today, and if I have my homework done for group. I instantly grew suspicious, because there's only one reason he ever checks in on things like that, and it's not because he loves his son.
Sure enough, he wanted to know, because he's got yet another revision in mind for the plan he's revised literally hundreds of times over the past decade, and of course, he can't use a telephone to communicate with his contractors. That would require a mastery of the English language he's never had, even before he started losing his mind.
Needless to say, this turned into a whole argument, but I did my best to try to keep calm this time, even though he's once again ignoring boundaries. It took him swearing on his dead mother that we'd be back in time before I relented.
The plan was to leave the house at 10:30 this morning, and go down to meet our subcontractor, Miguel. We had been on the road all of 30 seconds, when Dad called Miguel to make sure the plan was still on. Miguel informed him that he isn't planning to be down to the job for another two hours. So now we had to go back to the house for the key, because Miguel isn't there yet. And on the way back to the house, I asked my dad if he had confirmed this plan with Miguel last night. He started with, "Uh, well, uh, I was going to, but he always gets there at 9:00."
So there it is. He didn't actually confirm with the guy he wanted to meet, what time he wanted to meet him. And so now we're back at the house, waiting for him to get there at noon, at which point we're going to get back on the road and go down there.
Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Stay tuned, kiddies, it's going to pop off.
Because of my dad's history with pushing deadlines to the last possible second and beyond, I've set a clear boundary that I absolutely will not drive him down to that time-consuming money pit of a remodel job on Mondays. (And if you think I'm being paranoid, trusting him around deadlines like that is the reason I'm banned from Tigard Family Dental.)
So naturally, yesterday evening, Dad asked what I was doing today, and if I have my homework done for group. I instantly grew suspicious, because there's only one reason he ever checks in on things like that, and it's not because he loves his son.
Sure enough, he wanted to know, because he's got yet another revision in mind for the plan he's revised literally hundreds of times over the past decade, and of course, he can't use a telephone to communicate with his contractors. That would require a mastery of the English language he's never had, even before he started losing his mind.
Needless to say, this turned into a whole argument, but I did my best to try to keep calm this time, even though he's once again ignoring boundaries. It took him swearing on his dead mother that we'd be back in time before I relented.
The plan was to leave the house at 10:30 this morning, and go down to meet our subcontractor, Miguel. We had been on the road all of 30 seconds, when Dad called Miguel to make sure the plan was still on. Miguel informed him that he isn't planning to be down to the job for another two hours. So now we had to go back to the house for the key, because Miguel isn't there yet. And on the way back to the house, I asked my dad if he had confirmed this plan with Miguel last night. He started with, "Uh, well, uh, I was going to, but he always gets there at 9:00."
So there it is. He didn't actually confirm with the guy he wanted to meet, what time he wanted to meet him. And so now we're back at the house, waiting for him to get there at noon, at which point we're going to get back on the road and go down there.
Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Stay tuned, kiddies, it's going to pop off.
46-50, M
