I got home and had a nice dinner and started laundry. Almost immediately after dinner, my father and I got into our first large altercation since I’ve moved back home. It went like this. My brand new, less than two month-old car, is leaking oil. Not profusely, but enough to make both myself and Dad worried. I know how long a car can go leaking, but of course, Dad doesn’t trust that because I have a history of letting things go until the last minute.
He yells at me that I’m not taking enough initiative and that I should have had the car in at the Rochester dealership by now.
Uhm. I found out about the leak three days ago. I work. With the commute, 12 hour days. The dealership is closed when I leave and closed when I get back.
I wasn’t exactly eloquent in trying to get this across. So, he leaves to hang out in the den and Mom defends Dad, and I defend myself. We start going in circles, so dad YELLS from the den at the top of his lungs, storms back in, and chews me out for a bit.
Here’s an interesting bit. This is the first time in my life that this confrontation hasn’t produced an immediate submission response. I stared him in the eyes, let his words make me cold inside, and let him finish ranting. He left, and I waited around until it was clear that I wasn’t going to check/add the oil as an immediate response to his ranting, then checked it.
A quart low after 1800 miles since the last oil change.
Less than two months old.
The argument and the leaking made me very, very angry. So, as per usual, I was quiet.
I got my laundry taken care of, for the most part.
Afterward, for cool-down and relaxation, I went here:
