both my parents wanted me to come down, but there’s no way I want to. I can understand why my mom would rather I go to SA to see her, since her car is on the verge of death, and a trip to my apartment or even across her town could leave her stranded.
but my dad wanted me to come down because he didn’t want to change his plans. His plans, by the way, were attending the 18th birthday party of a family friend’s son. In my dad’s eyes, someone else’s birthday takes precedence over his own son’s.
So screw it, if my dad isn’t going to inconvenience himself for his own son, I’m just not going to show up to please him.
This is the thanks I get for jumping through hoops on his 60th birthday, making sure my brother and my aunt could be picked up for his party.
I’m your fucking son, and you can’t even make time to come up and see me.
And somehow, it keeps surprising me. When my stepsister lived in Austin, he’d go there frequently without even bothering to tell me so maybe we could see each other in San Marcos. One time my stepbrother’s wife was in town with my nephew, and I had no clue until two days before she left.