So I love my dad, but he drives me crazy to no end. Karl and I got back from India nearly two weeks ago. We were there for two weeks, and those two weeks were spent almost entirely with my parents. My dad has a loud voice, a loud personality, and generally a loud sense of being. All in all, he's just a loud man. This is in contrast to Karl, who is one of the most reserved people I know. It's safe to say I married the polar opposite of my dad.
My dad also suffers from something I would like to call "word vomit." Things just come out of his mouth without him thinking about it. Sometimes, I wonder if he really thinks at all, but that is another post for another time. I was directly hit by some of this word vomit waiting for the train from Agra to Delhi. After a wonderful day of seeing every sight BUT the Taj Mahal (it was closed damn it!), I was thinking the train ride to Delhi would be nice and peaceful. Alas, the word vomit came out as we were in line to buy a bottle of water:
"Why are you going back to school? Karl has a good job! You already don't work. You should think about starting a family."
I was a bit taken aback. My parents were second on my phone list when I got my accceptance letter to go back to school. They said they were happy and proud of me... I specifically took so much time off from my life to figure out what I needed to do and where I needed to go. It took me a full year to decide to go back to school, which included campus visits, talking to professors, talking to alumni, and talking to (some) family. It wasn't a decision to be taken lightly since I had such a hard time functioning as a rational human being at Clemson.
So my dad whittled most of my worth down to baby-maker. Not that I don't want to be a baby-maker, but yet again, another post for another time.
Sometimes, I really just wish I could word vomit all over him someday.
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