every now and then, i’m reminded of things my parents made me do when i was a kid that i thought were stupid even back then, and i’m relieved that as an adult, i don’t have to do that shit anymore.
for instance, we always had two tea towels hanging on the stove door. one was fuzzy and meant for drying clean hands, and one was not fuzzy and it was meant for drying clean dishes. god help you if you used the fuzzy one for clean dishes or vice versa. why? don’t ask me. in my humble opinion, clean hands and dishes are both clean so it makes no difference which one dries what. when i finally moved out at age 32, i started using whatever tea towel was there to dry whatever i wanted. and here i stand before you today, and i still haven’t died of salmonella poisoning yet.
another one of dad’s weird things was moving things from one container to another, even if all the stuff didn’t fit in the new container and we wound up with two containers taking up more room in the cupboard. for example, he would buy a box of cereal and make us pour the contents into a tupperware container. if it didn’t all fit, he made us leave the remainder in the original box and put that in there too. my question is, what was wrong with just leaving the stuff in the cereal box to start with? i argued like mad with him over this but there was no swaying him. it was his house, he bought the groceries, and the goddamned cereal was going in the goddamned tupperware, end of story. since i moved out last month though, i keep all my cereal in the box, just like god intended.
good ol’ dad also made my brother and i clean the toilet with our hands.
that’s right, with our hands. no fancy dancy toilet brushes for us. toilet brushes were for uppity folks, i guess. so we would don the plastic gloves, grab a scrub pad and the comet bathroom cleaner, and go to town on the fucking thing. why couldn’t dad just buy a toilet brush? i don’t know. i actually didn’t even realize how weird it was we didn’t have a toilet brush until i this some serious thought. i just always thought toilet brushes were sort of a luxury. well, i thought that until i moved in with my wife, saw that she had a toilet brush, and gave it two seconds of thought.
- mugs and glasses stored upside down. i think it’s gross because the shelves get dirty unless you clean them all the time (which no sane person does) so you’re just wiping the clean lip of the glass on a filthy surface. but that was how daddy liked it.
- too much shit everywhere. my dad was and still is a hoarder, and growing up amongst mountains of shit really bugged me. i was embarrassed to bring friends over because i knew how gross our place was. one time i cleaned up my room and gave dad a few bags of old clothes to take to the thrift store. he told me to hang on to them till he went by there next. i held on to them for a week or something, asked him again. he said he still hadn’t gone by there. asked him again the next week, same answer but more annoyed with me for pestering him. this went on for MONTHS, no joke. finally, after maybe a year, when he was away one day i took the bags of clothes outside and burned them. i was about 12 at the time. the stupidest thing about this is that the thrift store was only 10 minutes away and he drove by it every time he got groceries. do you know what i do now when i have too much shit? i deal with it. i take it to the fucking thrift store like i wanted to when i was 12. it’s not that hard.
sometimes i just get so pissed about weird stuff like this that my folks did. i don’t hold it against them or anything because i know if i had kids, they would find similar stuff about me and feel the same way. i just hope that i would be more reasonable when they questioned me, like “son, you have a very good point. a toilet brush would be a far more sanitary option for cleaning the toilet than your hands.”
all this dad talk reminds me of that “hello dad, i’m in jail” video that used to be on muchmusic. it used to weird me out and sort of disturb me then but i love it now.