GROW UP AMY BE STRONGER AMY UGHHH (( RANTING PLZ DON'T REBLOG THIS IT'S NOT FOR REBLOGGING IT'S A PERSONAL POST))
My parents came home from a trip to the store right? My dad said to be outside on the porch waiting with all my bros. So I got them all out there and then dad comes home. Does he say thank you for following his instruction like he wanted me to? Nope. We go out and I get like four or five bags on either arm.
Then someone’s like: Don’t forget the big pack of water bottles.
Dad: Amy grab the big pack of water bottles.
Me: (( Thinking: Dad you aren’t even fuckin carrying anything. I already got enough bags carry it your damn self.)) Okay… *grabs them cause I don’t want to argue, my wrist -on my dominant hand- twists as I pick it up. I’m holding it and stumbling back. Me: Dad can you please take the water bottle pack-
Dad: Carry the water bottle pack to the house!
Me: *Trying to keep hold of the pack while my wrist is throbbing in pain* Dad please take the–
Dad: AMY YOU TAKE THAT DAMN WATER BOTTLE PACK TO THE HOUSE—
Me: But Dad I—-
Dad: AMY SO HELP ME—
Me: I can’t!!! *drops water bottle pack that’s filled with like 24 water bottles onto the drive way*
Dad: FUCK! DAMN IT AMY GO INSIDE AND THEN COME BACK FOR THE WATER BOTTLES.
Me: I’m sorry I… I twisted my wrist when picking them up. Dad: FUCK THAT! I DON’T WANT EXCUSES. GROW UP AND AND BE STRONGER.
Me: (( you tell that to me with someone with low pain tolerance, old wrist injuries, and a fuck tone of mental issues )) IT’S NOT AN EXCUSE YOU KNOW I HAVE POOR GRIP AND LOW PAIN TOLERANCE– BUT FUCKING FINE! *stomps to door and takes plastic bags inside and then comes back out to get the 24 water bottles and struggles the whole way back and into the kitchen to play on table*
Dad: *putting things away*
Me: *goes over to him* I’m sorry dad for dropping the water–“
Dad: I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS. JUST GROW UP AND BE STRONGER AND TRY HARDER. NOW I’LL BE IN MY ROOM DON’T BOTHER ME. - - - -
Nice talking to you too.. dad.