He yelled at me, but my answer stopped him cold.
Who is "he"? My dad. Sheesh, was he mad.
Before I can tell the story, I need to set the scene...
I was in college as a commuter. Working 3 part-time jobs to help off-set tuition, fees and books, I rarely had money to eat out, so I often packed my lunch for a day at school.
I often forgot the leftovers from said lunch in the back of the family car when I got home.
Dad had recently married my step-mom, after which we combined her family and ours into one big group. In the process, I gained a step-brother and a step-sister.
My younger step-brother and biological sister were the same age, and had their driver's licenses, so only my step-sister was too young to drive.
Essentially strangers now living together, we all worked really hard to live amicably. So, when Dad asked me to drive my step-sister to her ballet class, I unhesitatingly agreed.
I needed to go to the bathroom, but thought, "It'll keep until I get back."
Off we went. I dropped her outside the park district building, rushed home to use the bathroom I should have used before leaving, then sat in the family room to watch television.
Suddenly, my very angry dad appeared in the room. "What did you leave in that car!?!?"
Confused, I ask, "What do you mean? I didn't leave anything in the car."
"It smells like something is decomposing in that car. Go find it and throw it out!"
I approached the car parked on the driveway with all the other vehicles our family used, carefully opened the door and knew immediately what the smell was.
Popping the back hatch, I searched through my school things just to make sure I hadn't left a stray lunch back there. I found nothing.
I searched the rest of the car, just to be safe and to be 100% sure of what I already knew.
Not finding anything, I went back inside and sat in the family room to watch TV.
My dad appeared again (I swear that man had a tracking device on me) and bellowed, "So, what did you find? What was rotting in that car?"
"Nothing, Dad. There was nothing in the car."
"Well, I know I smelled something, so something has to be there!"
"Dad, it was gas."
"Dammit, I've been a mechanic for 30 years. I know what gasoline smells like!"
"No dad. Gas, as in from my body. I had to go to the bathroom when I got home."
He never said another word. He just stood there staring at me like I was an alien. Then, he shook his head and walked away.
Ahhh....the joys of not being able to process dairy products. <Heavy sigh>
Colossians 3:21 (ESV)
21 Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged.
Ephesians 4:26-27 (MSG)
26-27 Go ahead and be angry. You do well to be angry—but don’t use your anger as fuel for revenge. And don’t stay angry. Don’t go to bed angry. Don’t give the Devil that kind of foothold in your life.
This post is part of Blogapalooz-hour here at ChicagoNow. Once a month, on Wednesday night, we are given a topic at 9pm. We have one hour to write and edit. We all then publish at 10pm. Tonight's topic is "Write about a time you lost your temper or somebody lost their temper at you."
Do you have a time when you lost your temper or somebody lost their temper at you?
Tell me about it here, then come on over to my facebook page. I post memes, devotionals, prayer requests and praise reports, and it's safe for people of all ages.
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