Food’s Here!

I was still in bed when my mom brought back lunch. It was one in the afternoon. My dad told me to get up, that food’s here. I ignored him. He repeated himself. I said ok and stayed in bed.

He yelled into the room again and again, increasingly frustrated. “You’re 30-something and you’re still like this!” My eyes opened momentarily. I caught him shaking his head, disappointed. What was going on?

I was tired. The early lecture killed my hunger. I figured I could:

1. Get up and eat, even though I wasn’t hungry. This reeked of cowardice and submission and my ego would not allow it.
2. Stay in bed and ignore him in an act of defiance, a sort of passive resistance. As much as I wanted to do this, I knew my dad would just get more riled up.

Figuring the best action, the harmonious one, was something in between, I calmly and deliberately made my next few moves. I walked into the bathroom. I scraped my tongue. I brushed my teeth. I talked to my mom for a few minutes, buying time until the dreaded, inevitable next action.

I sat down facing him and started eating, as though nothing happened.

And then, nothing happened.

We didn’t talk. He didn’t even look at me. I got the feeling his mind was elsewhere.

All day long I wondered why my dad was so pissed. I didn’t bring it up to anyone, trying to just accept that it happened. I knew I was still emotional, but I didn’t let it control my actions.

Reprieve came at last from my mom. In an off-handed comment, she said, “I don’t understand why your dad was so mad this morning.” Acknowledgement was all I needed.

Afterward I was far nicer to my dad. I called him, asking if he wanted dinner. I greeted him with a smile as we brought home food. He reciprocated in kind.

Sometimes I forget that we are all human.