Wednesday, September 05, 2007
My dad is still gripped by mania. He called and left a message on my voicemail, yelling "Hallelujah! Can't wait to see my dear daughter!" He said "Hallelujah" like, 4 times. He also turned up his oldies music for me. Again.
I made arrangements with a close friend to eat with her on shabbos. She knows my father, so I won't feel embarrassed if he pulls any schtick. I have also decided to curtail my shabbos visiting time with him. After lunch I'll just tell him I'm tired. I know this is deceptive, but I can't say, "Dad, I don't want to be with you now." (Besides, he'll have me all day Sunday, in Jersey.)
What's the moral of this story? An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. If I had only been assertive in the first place, and told him it wasn't a good idea to come, I could've saved myself all this nonsense.
In the meantime, I'll enjoy the lemonade.
p.s. Today is my "english" birthday. I'm 32. Yay, me.