-Earlier Today-
I'm about to ride my bike to a friends house.
Dad says it's fine.
I tell him that my brother and I hadn't taken the papers we were supposed to downtown.
I don't know why. I just did.
And he flipped.
Told me that the bathroom wasn't clean, that I did horrible with my chores, that this house was a mess. That I should have cleaned it all.
I'm the type of anonymous person to...back talk.
So believe me, I back talked.
Told him that he said we had to work together, that two lousy papers isn't going to harm anyone. I told him that he said we had to have it done by the end of the day.
It wasn't the end of the day yet.
I'm sent to my room.
He leaves.
I walk downstairs and pace, furious.
Then I pick up the laundry basket.
"You want a mess, Dad?" I say, to no one.
And I dump it all.
Every sock and shirt, every piece of laundry is on the floor.
I let out a cry of frustration and I throw pillows around the room.
As I bend down over the laundry, I feel tears escape my eyes.
Tears of anger, I guess.
And then I pick up the entire mess I made, go clean the bathroom, dust the living room, vacuum the stairs, and do someone else's dishes.
