Dads

I called my Dad after we went to Midland Antique Mall to tell him we finally got a suitable chair for the living room. It's a plum/beige deco-type chair. Fuck, I know nothing about deco, but it looks similar to this except it's covered in wool and doesn't have the corny button things.

So, he asked what I was doing this weekend if I was coming down to visit. I told him I'm really busy this weekend, and frankly, I'm not in the mood to deal with my father right now. I told him that I was doing a dog transport tomorrow afternoon. He asked how much I was getting paid. I told him nothing. He asked, "Well why the hell would you do it if you're not even getting paid for gas." Of course Adam chimed in and said something along the lines of "someone has to." And he's right. Apparently my father's never heard of "volunteering". You know, because you actually do something you should get paid for it. Even if I was getting paid, I sure as fuck wouldn't tell him considering he wants me to buy him this and buy him that. Apparently he's forgotten I'm a broke-ass college student.

*grumble*