Thursday, 15 September 2011


No, not me parenting (although my lumpy little ovaries are screaming at the to START, RIGHT NOW DAMNIT - they're just not sensible) but my father. Parenting me. It's bloody odd, I'm telling you. I've been an independant wee birdie for nearly two years now, able to do what I want, when I want (or almost, anyway. See:homeless.) Not any more, now I have somebody enforcing rulesand restrictions, the most frustrating of which is that I am no longer free to roam the house as I please in the wee small hours. The moment Dekus the Dad lays his head down to rest for the night an electronics ban comes into play. It's like living in the dark ages, I'm tellin' ya.

It does have its upsides, this curfew, (aside from lowering DtD's electric bill) which is that I am now forced to do something productive with my nights, like reading and writing, honing my literary skills. Which can only be a good thing, let's face it, because it is an area in which I am sorely lacking right now. The major downside is that in his waking hours, Dekus the Dad likes to control both the television and his laptop, at the same time. How exactly does one fully dedicate oneself to fighting off hoardes of zombies when one is also utterly engrossed in back-to-back episodes of M*A*S*H*?

Apparently this is his way of weaning me off of hours of reading blogs, playing The Sims 3 (it's an addiction, I say) and day time television and getting me to clean his house while he's at work. Tough chance, Dekus, what you fail to realise is that whilst you are working, I have free reign of your home and electric appliances.*

Honestly though, I'm not finding it too bad. I realise that I'm a lucky little button to even have these privelages in the first place, some people aren't so lucky. I know, for a long time I was one of them. I'm going to miss watching terrible films before bed though, I'll admit that in a heart beat.

Some bloggers write about their husbands, some write about their children. Me? I write about my dad.

*I'm not that bad, honest. I walk his dog and do the dishes. I just refuse to use the vacuum cleaner. I have my reasons.


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