It upsets me to my core that he sees me this way
I’m in bed, trying to sleep.
About 45 mins ago? I made some muffins to have for in the morning.
My dad just barges in my room and says, “Why did you spill coffee all over the floor?”
Me: “I didn’t.”
My dad: “Well, there’s coffee all over the floor and in the refrigerator.” (He keeps his refillable coffee k-cups on the refrigerator door.)
Me: “I don’t know what happened.”
My dad: “Well, I didn’t do it. Somebody must have done it.”
Me, frustrated: “Yes, it was me and I’m obviously lying about it.”
Why does this upset me? Because he doesn’t say, oh, well if wasn’t either of us, there must me some other explanation. No. He insists that I did it and that I am LYING about it. About spilling a coffee cup.
The most logical explanation is that one of the k-cups fell off the door when it shut.
But no, he blames every single thing on me and I’m sick of it. I can’t stand that my own father would assume that I am lying before running more likely explanations through his thick skull.
Moving out in T-29 days.