Waving hands in his face, he still can't focus. His head bobs from side to side. He falls to his side on the floor and burps. He then laughs. I cover my nose. The smell of vodka and marijuana stains his breath. I get up, looking around for something to help me get him up. Nothing.
I glance back down. Frowning, scorning his pathetic state. Exactly how am I suppose to handle this? You're the adult, so act like one! Do you actually think this is going to fix everything? Help you cope?
You complain about money -we can't pay our bills- but here you are wasting it on alcohol and drugs. Dont spend our last dollar on a lottery ticket or slot machin hoping we'll get some type of fickle fortune. You sit in front of this little space heater. Cold isn't it? Yes, we all know. You act like we aren't freezing our asses off either. We're hungry! The water isn't running right. What's going on? I want clean clothes. I need boots!
Am I suppose to use this as a model for the husband I'm to have? I feel sorry for you, but I cry for my own state. How dare you bring me into this world poor! You dont get anything. Hello? Help me with school work you idiot. That way I won't be sititng where you are ten years from now.
Too wrapped up in your own problems, you can't even see that it's affecting us too. Your problems are ours now. Yelling at us because you're stressed? Throwing shoes, punching holes into the walls? WELCOME TO LIFE! We're stressed too! So are we to fiend for ourselves, because you're focused on yourself? Not worried about the very people you should be taking care of.
I walk away in disgust, hurt.
"Where's Dad?" my sister asks.
I shrug, "Puking in his misery as always."
*For the children who have to deal with the effects of their parents financial problems.
1/2-3/10
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