Maxigumee

A few days ago, my father found out that my uncle from Holland was visiting the United States. He wasn’t coming to where my family lives, actually, he wasn’t really going anywhere near where my family lives, as driving distances go. He was going to Boston, which, if you didn’t know, isn’t exactly close to New York…. at least when driving there. And, of course, being the great and powerful decision maker, my father decided to drive up to Boston this weekend. Just for the weekend! That’s two days! That gives us about one day of being there, and one day of driving back, if we were to leave on Friday (today).

So, he asked me if I wanted to come. I don’t really remember what I said, it might have been something like, “rm, I dunno.” But I guess to my father that means, “YES! I’d absolutely love to come! This is the perfect chance for some quality father-son bonding!”

Not that I wouldn’t like to go to Boston again. I’ve been there once or twice before, and it was a really nice city. It’s just that, I don’t know, I suppose I’m just not ready for the whole road trip thing. The eight or more hours in the car, the rest stop bathrooms, the boredom, the smell of cow poop…. and in just one weekend! I know that I complain a lot about never doing anything, but this is just tooooo much to ask.

I told my mother this morning on the way to school that I didn’t want to go on the trip. She told me that I might have fun, but I shouldn’t have to go if I didn’t want to. I told her to tell my father that I didn’t want to come so that I wouldn’t have to myself. My father had already told me that my uncle was looking for ward to seeing me and that he’d be very sad if I didn’t come. Talk about making me feel guilty!

Unfortunately, when I got home from school, my father still thought I was planning on going on the trip. Or maybe he knew I didn’t want to but was doing one of those “pretend-you-don’t-know-so-he’ll-still-feel-guilty” acts. He told me he’d be very disappointed in me if I didn’t go. This was very annoying to hear since I had been thinking in school about what I was going to do this weekend. I have a lot of dvd renting to catch up on. I also want to sleep. If I went on the trip, we’d be getting into Boston at about eleven or twelve at night, then we’d be getting up at like six so we could do lots of stuff. Too stressful!

I don’t know what it is about me. Maybe it’s taking rules way to seriously. They tell you when you’re little not to be rude. So I don’t want to be rude. I don’t want to make people mad at me! So when I found out my father still wanted me to come and would “be very disappointed” in me if I didn’t come, I went downstairs and began to have a fit. I guess psychologically, I don’t want to get anybody mad, so I hint it to them through a lot of whining, screaming, and throwing things. I went to get some cereal, and we were out of milk! I was mad!

So anyway, I think my father got my point and left without me, but not before telling me how disappointed in me he was.