Let The Douche Baggery Commence

My douche bag father is coming to town this weekend.  My sister and I are not very pleased.  Still, we have to make some kind of effort if we expect to remain in the will.  Not that there will be much left for us as we assume that he’ll be leaving the bulk of his estate (which is substantial) to our evil step-monster.  She has him wrapped around her bony ass little finger.  She is evil to the core.  She’s one of those women who you think is super nice, until you really get to know her and realize she’s a soul sucker with blonde hair and an annoying voice that will make your ears bleed if you listen to it for too long.

It’s been nearly 3 years since the last time they came to town.  As a matter of fact, he’s never even met Lucy(fer).  Not one single time.  He doesn’t ask for pictures, and he calls her by the wrong name. 

• Dad: “How’s Lillian doing?”
• Me: Her name is Lucy(fer).
• Dad: Sorry, that’s what I meant.  She’s going to be turning 3 this year in November, right?
• Me: How about 2 in October?
• Dad: Hey, did I mention that your evil step-monster and I are taking a week off from our hectic life in the tropical oasis of Oahu on our estate with a pool, and heading over to our beach front property in Florida for 2 weeks?

My sister and I are hoping that Lililan Lucy(fer) uses her evil powers on him and breaks his ear drums when he attempts to pick her up.  Actually, he’ll probably throw out his back too since she weighs as much as I do.  Damien has already informed us that he doesn’t want to hang out with his other grandpa because he’s “yucky”.  Can’t wait for him to say that to my dad’s face.  Good times, good times.

Damien has met my dad on 2 other occasions.  One of them happened to be a trip to Florida to the beach front estate.  How do I begin to explain the horror that was my family trip to Florida 3 summers ago? My father and evil step-monster thought it would be grand if we could all go down there and spend some time bonding as a family.

Let me just give you a few phrases to provide you a brief description:

1. The smell that hit us when we walked into the house where I would be staying.
2. The disgusting toilet I had to clean with a washcloth and bar soap because no one had bothered to do it before I arrived.
3. Random children all over the house, adding to the smell.
4. Having to watch the birth (via Cesarean section) of a child I did not know.
5. My step-monster’s racist father that insisted that Mexicans only eat goat and tortilla. Didn’t seem to bother him that I was Mexican, and insisted that it wasn’t the case.
6. My step-monster’s crazy mother breaking out into song, and insulting one of her daughters. Wonderful comments included, but were not limited to:
   • “Fatty fatty 2 by 4, can’t get through the kitchen door,”
   • “My god. I didn’t think they made swimsuits in your size,” and
   • “I don’t think that chair can take all of your weight.”
7. And let us not forget the convicted felon that had just been released. What was his crime? No one would tell us. All they would say is, “Best keep your little one away from him.”

Klassy, klassy trip.

Just thinking about it makes me want to bang my head on my desk and weep openly.

 

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