Sunday, July 21, 2019

Me: happy birthday Dad
Him: I'm still alive
Me: clearly
Him: so you're coming on the 10th or 11th?
Me: yes
Him: and you're staying here with the boys?
Me: the boys are staying with you, I'm going to work in Stevens Point for a few days
Him: why don't I go with you and leave the boys here?
Me: oh hell No! spend time with your grandchildren, I'm going north to work and going on a date, you're not invited to either
Him: is the family meeting the date?
Me: maybe? (not)
Him: whatever, you go through men like flies anyway
Me: first of all, I don't need you saying stupid shit like that to some poor guy whose only crime is liking me, and what the fuck does "going through a fly" even mean?
Him: I mean they come and go like flies
Me: (sigh) Dad, you are really going to have to get over Aar**, everyone is over him but you
Him: that fucker
Me: he did his best
Him: bring the date so I can start hating him
Me: uh huh, until I go through him like a fly?


How could anyone wonder at my ambivalence toward men and my sporadic urge to tackle wack scratch them?