My dad called me up this afternoon to tell me that he and my mom had decided that, if we couldn’t get the washer fixed this weekend, they would just buy us one. I wanted to turn him down, but, well, I also really want to be able to wash my clothes.
The thing that broke my heart is that he had like five hundred reasons why I should take the money–that they’d given a lot of money to my brothers and this would even it out, that they wanted to be able to stop here and wash their clothes without worry when they are traveling now that they’ll both be retired, that my dad was especially fond of my washer, because it had a big tub (though I don’t know why that would mean he had to replace it), that ten years is about the life span of a washing machine according to the dude on WGN and we might not be able to fix it.
And I could say no, but he’d just send the money anyway.
So, instead I said, “Don’t worry, Dad, after you die the Butcher and I are just going to get our brother and prop him up in the corner like you’d do with any wildly expensive piece of art.”
And he got all weird! “Hey, now, we gave you the downpayment for your house.”
“Dad, Dad, you know I’m not keeping tally. I would not keep tally even if you wanted me to.”
Lord almighty, our family has enough problems without someone sitting around making sure everyone is getting an equal share. And I will happily take a new washing machine, in which I will wash my clothes and think of my dad.
I’m still not telling him exactly what my book is about until that day in the far future when I sign a book contract for it, though.