I love living with my dad, the crazy ISTP bastard.
My INTJ brother and I were hanging last night, watching some Bones episodes, munching on some candy, the bro drinking some beer. Perfect way to unwind after a long day at work.
When I got home, my dad was upstairs in his lair, at his control station as usual, watching his 14 inch TV and playing Farmville. I shouted up to him a curt greeting, he shouted one back. Then radio silence...business as usual.
Then, a couple hours later, my dad emerges from his cave, dressed in nothing but a scowl and his ******-tighties.
At this point, all three of us start to bicker and banter, mostly my brother telling my dad to get him another beer, my dad telling him to shut up, and me telling him to put some pants on.
Then we start harassing him about how he needs a woman. Dad: Right! Like I need a woman! Just someone who will make me do stuff! Then he goes into this rant about a woman at work.
The bantering continued, the bro still trying to wheedle the beer out of him, and me calling him a crazy geezer, dad jumping out of the kitchen and glaring at me, both my bro and me trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably.
Finally, with a plate of cheese chips, he goes marching toward the stairs again.
My INTJ bro calls after: Aren't you chilly, dad? I'm chilly, and I got pants and a shirt on.
Me: He has rage for blood. He never gets chilly.
Bro: Right, I forgot about that. The rage never cools down.
Dad: *stalks back upstairs in haughty silence*
Bro: He didn't get me that beer! Shut down...I thought he was joking.
Me: I guess not.
After this exchange, my brother summed it up quite succinctly: we're scarred for life...we're never going to be normal.
Me: You're telling me!
But recalling that scene, I can't help thinking, life is good. I'd rather have my crazy, half-naked, reclusive dad, then a smothering one who tries to control my life.
My INTJ brother and I were hanging last night, watching some Bones episodes, munching on some candy, the bro drinking some beer. Perfect way to unwind after a long day at work.
When I got home, my dad was upstairs in his lair, at his control station as usual, watching his 14 inch TV and playing Farmville. I shouted up to him a curt greeting, he shouted one back. Then radio silence...business as usual.
Then, a couple hours later, my dad emerges from his cave, dressed in nothing but a scowl and his ******-tighties.
At this point, all three of us start to bicker and banter, mostly my brother telling my dad to get him another beer, my dad telling him to shut up, and me telling him to put some pants on.
Then we start harassing him about how he needs a woman. Dad: Right! Like I need a woman! Just someone who will make me do stuff! Then he goes into this rant about a woman at work.
The bantering continued, the bro still trying to wheedle the beer out of him, and me calling him a crazy geezer, dad jumping out of the kitchen and glaring at me, both my bro and me trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably.
Finally, with a plate of cheese chips, he goes marching toward the stairs again.
My INTJ bro calls after: Aren't you chilly, dad? I'm chilly, and I got pants and a shirt on.
Me: He has rage for blood. He never gets chilly.
Bro: Right, I forgot about that. The rage never cools down.
Dad: *stalks back upstairs in haughty silence*
Bro: He didn't get me that beer! Shut down...I thought he was joking.
Me: I guess not.
After this exchange, my brother summed it up quite succinctly: we're scarred for life...we're never going to be normal.
Me: You're telling me!
But recalling that scene, I can't help thinking, life is good. I'd rather have my crazy, half-naked, reclusive dad, then a smothering one who tries to control my life.
roud: And I swear, he sounds like a five-year-old when he replies either "It is NOT!" or "YOU'RE lame!" depending on the day.
