Remember when I said that my dad is very good at holding my grudges for me?
Well, he’s also really good at doing his “fatherly duty” of messing with my boyfriends.
On Friday, as I attempted to sleep the evening away in preparation for the night shift, my father and brother were texting my boyfriend.
What were they texting? LIES! Pure lies! They swore to him I was crying and that my father was pissed at him. They told him he was in for it. They made the poor guy worried to the point where he had to call my MOM to find out why the hell I was so upset.
And people wondered why I was single for so long.
My family is crazy. They torture prospective/current boyfriends. They intimidate non-perspective boyfriends (upon their first meeting, my father told The Philosopher to “un-ass yourself from my wall,” or in layman’s terms “sit the hell down,”). They have given tours of the gun safes (yes, plural) and interesting nicknames (Mr. Wonderful, The Penguin Guy) to previous boys. Like trolls guarding bridges, they have to set up tests to “figure them out,” and allow passage to Land of Shaba.
Luckily my Mom isn’t so mean. When The Boy called her in frenzied she told him point blank that the men in my household are vile creatures who enjoy pulling his chain.
She suggested he give it right back to them, tenfold.
We’re currently planning our revenge, which may or may not involve hot glue and forklift
