#they also said my grandparents have a college fund for me but i think they're all lying fuckers

[buggzrfaeries]

ugh hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[tenrousei-kuroi]

they're both the same

Just a little personal blog storytime for battered and frustrated little old me...No fanfic, no tags, no sharing, just me rambling to myself.

Once upon a time there was a family: three kids, a dog, two parents, you know the drill.

The parents got divorced, and rather than pass the kids back and forth, the parents took turns living on their own or in the home with their children, instead. This isn't that uncommon, I remember a judge ordering a similar rotation schedule for my cousin back in the day.

But these parents were not equal. Mom wasn't perfect. Sometimes she was a little preoccupied with money and sometimes she'd spend too much time with her friends. In the past she'd dated men who weren't great and had said some cruel things to people who didn't deserve it. And while she hadn't completely shaken off some of her past failings, she was trying to move forward. The older parts of her were dying out, leaving room for fresh, new ideas and a gentler personality to grow. It was slow going, but overall she was decent, and most importantly, open to reason. The kids could talk to her and felt like when they did there was at least a snowball's chance in hell that she might see their point.

Dad was different. He was awful. He wanted nothing more than to profit from his kids, siphoning off money their grandparents put into college funds to spend on himself instead. He'd gaslight the kids into thinking it was their fault they got no Christmas presents. You were hanging out with that Garcia kid again even after I told you not to, so he's stolen your gifts this year, maybe listen to me next time.

The kids would come home from school each day and they'd sprawl out on the dining table, backs to the actual kitchen. They didn't see what went on in there, and didn't care to understand even if they did. All they knew was that it was the room where meals come from.

For some years, the meals felt the same to the kids no matter who was cooking. Mom always tried to cajole them into helping. Come share some of your time, some of your allowance on ingredients and prep work and lets make the food together.

But the kids didn't like that.

Dad's meals never tried to guilt them into helping. He always served them without even looking at them. The food would be inconsistent. One kid often got more than his siblings and no one knew why. Dad's meals were full of sugar, corn syrup and huge amounts of carbohydrates.

Yeah it was slowly killing his children, but since Mom always tried to serve them vegetables and sometimes went a little overboard restricting desserts, the kids couldn't really see the difference. They felt they had no control either way. To them, refusing to help their mother plan and prep meals was exactly the same as their father never even giving them the option.

It was exactly the same.

Until one day when Dad lost his god damn mind.

He came home from work, his week to live in the apartment where the kids stayed, and he absolutely trashed the place.

He broke dishes on the floor, he emptied buckets of dirty dish water onto the linoleum, he pulled food from the cupboards and stomped on it.

The kids, waiting like always at the table for their dinner, finally turned around and saw the mess.

Th--this is unacceptable! One of them stammered. We'll never get dinner like this, not with the house and the food all destroyed.

The kids complained the rest of their dad's stay. He kept screaming at the next door neighbors, embarrassing the children further. Everyone on their street gave the kids nothing but dirty looks because of their father's behavior.

We won't have a friend left on this block if he doesn't shut up! they groaned.

Dad also stopped caring for the family dog. Refused to take him to the vet for his checkups or shots. Each day the puppy stepped outside he risked preventable sickness.

It's a conspiracy, a waste of money! Back in my day we never paid our hard-earned money to uppity college women playing doctor and our farm dogs were just fine! Parvo is made up! I've never seen a dog with it!

But get parvo the puppy did. And now there was nothing to do but rush him to the ICU and treat the symptoms to the tune of several thousand dollars...a far cry more expensive than the $30 shot and $70 exam would have been.

When at long last the week was over, the children begged for their mom to come back. She'd not been an angel but at least she'd never vandalized their own home! She'd never rung up the cute girl next door and called her a filthy slut. She'd never failed to deliver at least some sort of dinner before.

You really want your bitch mother to come back? Dad griped. Fine, but next week it'll be my turn again and you can't turn me away!

But they could! Collectively the children realized they were far too old for a custody court to no longer take their opinion into account. Now well into their teens, they had the right to choose which parent came to stay with them.

And so they excitedly welcomed Mom back home.

When Mom saw the house she was aghast. The beautiful dishes, passed down from her own grandparents, shattered. The flooring, waterlogged and damaged beyond repair. The food rotting. The broken pipes leaking into the walls. Bills from the veterinarian clogging up the mail slot...

With a weary sigh she got to work. Meanwhile the kids turned their backs and sat at the table, simply asking for their dinner and for their dog back.

I'm on it. Mom promised. I'll make you a delicious and healthy dinner! So she started to clean. She had to pay for repairs to the floor, and all the groceries needed re-bought. She spent the first few hours just fielding furious calls from the neighbors, promising each of them that no one from her house was going to be calling them up to threaten them anymore. After emptying their savings to cover the vet fees, there almost wasn't enough money to finish repairing the room, and she had to ask the older children to pitch in with some of the money they earned from their after-school jobs.

A long time passed, but eventually the kitchen was acceptable again. New floors setting in, clean counters, and fresh food in the cupboards and fridge. It would be some time before it was fully stocked and beautiful again, and the advanced renovations everyone had been planning would have to wait just a little longer, but things were getting there.

So Mom started to prep for dinner. But before she'd gotten past setting out some pots and a cutting board, her children asked her to leave.

Get out! They yelled furiously. All you've done since you got here is spend money! You were supposed to be the better parent but you ALSO didn't get us any dinner. You PROMISED us dinner and and a renovated kitchen and you haven't delivered!

...Do you...want your father to come back? The mom was confused.

Who cares? One kid screamed. Either way we've gotten no dinner from either of you. You're basically the same. Stay or get out!

I want a different, brand new parent! Another kid yelled. I bet a NEW parent would have cleaned the whole mess and gotten us our dinner instantly!

Dad, eager to get back into the house and finish laundering what little money was left in his children's bank accounts, was all too happy to hop back in the next week, pushing Mom out. As she was shouldered out the door, the mom looked desperately to her children, hoping they would ask their dad to leave, invite her back in, and help her get to work on dinner and the kitchen, but they ignored her. Dad slammed the door in her face and smiled as he looked around the repaired kitchen while--just as they did every day--the kids filed in and took their seats (backs turned) at the dining table...

...and their father smashed the place up again. Brutalized it. Tipped the fridge over, breaking it and wasting all the new food inside. He turned on the faucet and plugged the sink, flooding the room. He picked up the heaviest dishes from the cabinets and went out onto the front lawn, pitching them recklessly at the neighbors' windows. He refused to pick the dog up from the vet's, because they wanted to charge him $50 for a rabies shot before sending the healed puppy home. When he was done making a mess, he drained the rest of his kids' bank funds and went to the bar with his friends. He spent so much time out drinking with his pals that you could have been forgiven for thinking the children now lived in the dilapidated house alone.

Dad's week is up tomorrow, one kid asked. Should we ask Mom to come back this time? Dad never gets us dinner, and he keeps taking our money....also I'm worried our puppy might get rabies this time, and unlike parvo that can't be treated...

So what, Mom's the same! the other kids insisted. Remember? All she does is spend our money and not get us dinner, too! She always promises us dinner and a bigger, renovated kitchen and we never get it! She's lying to us, stringing us along. So who CARES whether Mom or Dad stays with us next week.

They're both the same.