Daddy Dearest

My dad is moving to Washington, DC in a month.  I haven’t fully decided my feelings towards said move other than: 

-Old man, I will believe you when you should up on my doorstep, suitcase in hand and ask politely to sleep on my couch for a night or two.

-And HEY!  Remember when I moved 1,100 miles away from home?!  It’s ‘cause all you bitches be crazy.

Despite having a good father-daughter relationship, I keep having dreams about us co-habitating in the same city.  These are not *Chantix-induce crazy dreams as I was having this fall  but mostly about him ruining my pimp game (what teeny tiny bit I have).   

My father waits tables, among his many talents.  In my dreams, a very dishy gentlemen takes me on a fancy date and my father is our server.  That would be a hot first date.  Hey!  Meet my father!  (He is watching you.)  Wouldn’t you like to take off my clothes?

I sent him a text last weekend when I was out, figuring if he was going to hypothetically fuck with my dating life, I should warn him about the other rules I was going to break on the daily:  I am out past curfew!  I am drinking!  And talking to boys!  (I want to prepare you for living in a city with your daughter again).

This is going to be interesting. 

*Hell yes, I quit smoking!  But at a dear cost to my emotions.  Those nightmare side effects were a mother fucker.


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