Life With Poppa

This past week hasn't really been much fun. I am stresed out, tired, and feeling overwhelmed. I got myself put on blood pressure meds and I survived orientation (barely). I haven't blogged because I don't want to whine. The choices I have made are mine to deal with--and deal with them I will. Many thanks for support here and elsewhere-it truly means so much.

I thought I'd blog on something a bit lighter--moving back in with my father at the age of 45. I moved out of Mother's house 6 months after I graduated from nursing school--23 years ago. It is a bit weird being back with Poppa. I do not mean for any of this to be a complaint--my father has generously offered that I can stay as long as I wish--rent free. I am thankful for this gift. It does come with some amusing side effects, however.

When my aunt and uncle visited last week, my dad slept on the other twin bed in "my" room to give them his room. He left before I did that morning, and then called me to make sure I didn't fall back asleep. I was humored by this. I have been responsible for getting myself to work for many years, but 3 days back with him--he is checking up.

My father hasn't had a pet since he and Mother divorced when I was 8. The way he interacts with Percy and Spencer is highly entertaining--at least to him. He talks/yells at them in a regular voice--not a pet voice. When he found Spencer on his bed--he played the trumpet to make Spencer get off. When I was irritating my father (in a nice way), he took it out on Spencer--by turning the TV up as loud as possible and then going between mute and blast many times. (Spencer was in front of the TV at the time, just minding his own business.)

I asked him if the dishes in the dishwasher were clean or dirty. I didn't get a real answer. His "system" is that he never empties the dishwasher. He uses the dishes from the dishwasher and lets the dirties pile up in the sink. Then he adds those dirty ones to the clean ones and immediately runs it to clean them all.

He was out of town last week, and he texted me at 4am to tell me that Percy had just woken him up. He insists on c alling Percy "he" and "him" because "Percy is a guy's name."

It certainly seems that there are more stories that I sm forgetting at the moment. I wish that someone on FB hadn't already started the page "Shit my dad says."