My father is not an easy man to work with. The car is silent, save for his instructions, my stomach tensed in knots as I try my best not to give him reason to yell at me. And yell he does. There’s always some fault he wants to yell at me for and once he gets started he really can’t stop. I received a compliment today- well, almost. A compliment is far too much to hope for. He said “That’s how you should do it!” in the same voice he said “You’re too far to the left! Speed up, you’re dragging! When I say STOP you immediately hit the brakes!” It may as well have been an insult for all the aversion he put into it.
I know I’m just whining, and I know I’m not the only one who goes through this. I really should just suck it up, build a bridge and get over it. But every time I climb out of that car, I always feel a little shaky, and never entirely sure of myself.
I don’t know why I wrote this. Desperate cry of attention, I guess. Pssht. Deal with it already.
But I have to post it anyway. Just to say to myself I wrote it.