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I love my Daddy. He's the greatest. . . compared to my other parent.

But there's just this one thing about him. . .

Besides him giving me lung cancer. . .

He has a problem, or just this hobby, of telling me I just can't do things.

First, with soccer, he said that I had to practice. And everytime I did, he'd never watch like he said he would. And he'd walk out to take out the trash and just point out things I apparently was doing wrong. And said he nkows how to do it right.

Then there was Violin. My bridge was lopsided and I was considering taking it off myself, since my teacher would just have to do it anyway tomorrow to get it fixed. But my dad said I was 'touching it wrong' and he took my Violin from me. I told him he didn't know what he was doing [because he DIDN'T] and told him to give it back. He said he'd fix it for me. Then my bridge fell off. And I yelled at him, then he yelled at me. God. >.>;

Then there was helping him work on one of his cars. This was his GTO, yellow and super fast! >.> And when I wanted to help him get some new engine part with him and my brother. He said no because I was too girly and I didn't know about cars. [Clearly, because I was only ten, I didn't argue about his sexist comment, but I would now. I do all the time.] And he said that my brother knew how because he made model cars. >.> Which he never finished. He's older.

And THEN. Today. While lifting bricks with my brother. He told me not to go with, said that 50lbs were too heavy. So what?! Of course I went, he was angry though. I had trouble lifting one, I admit. I clearly have no arm strength. But I did, I was slower than my brother and him. And he said I was slowing them down, which I wasn't! Just because I was slowER doesn't mean I was making THEM SLOW! And then I kept going on every trip, back and forth with more bricks in the truck. Each time he told me to stay. Even after the second time and my brother decided he was done for the night. Then after we were done, he said "A for effort."
I told him effort started with an E. rolleyes
Then he gave me $5. But still never mentioned anything on how I totally proved him wrong. I persevered and went through brutal toughening pain just to show him, but no, nothing. My arms are scartchy, my pants are filthy, and my toe is swelling. But who cares??? I did it.

Now I think it was all pointless.

Well guess what DAD! I'M NOT HANDICAPPED.

. . . Wooooo. *Confetti*