Mike does flashbacks so I don't have 2

So, I'm boycotting these flashbacks, but Mike isn't. U will C the next one goes with the "Dad" and "dishes" theme:

April,

Formerly little sis. Well, I wandered by your house to check and see if there was any good food running about in mom’s refrigerator. As I was chomping down a bit of leftover meatloaf, I looked up and saw one of the strangest sights I think I have ever seen. Mom was standing there, glassy-eyed as usual when she is thinking about how life was back in 1979, but her face startled me. Instead of her usual appearance; her mouth was twisted, distorted and contorted and her eyes had an expression on them almost as if she were disfigured and warped from all that was natural. I said to Dad, “What’s wrong with mom? Do we need to take her to hospital?” Dad said, “No, Mike. You are witness to a rare occurrence, not often seen around here.” I said, “What? What is it? What’s wrong with mom?” Dad said, “There’s nothing wrong with mom. That’s how she looks when she is happy.” I said, “I can’t stand to look at her like this. It’s like my whole world has turned upside down. Make it stop. Make it stop.” Dad said, “Give it a rest, Mike. Elly has been happy before.”

Tenuously I said to him, “Dad. What story could she possibly be thinking of to bring this misshapen look to her face?” Dad said, “It was one of the stories from 1979 again.” I said, “What happened?”

Dad said, “Back in 1979, Elly and I would actually entertain and have parties in our house.” I said, “Like Christmas dinner?” Dad said, “No. With friends and not relatives.” I said, “Go on, you kidder. You didn’t do that. I would remember.” Dad said, “It was at night after you and your sister were asleep. Elly would put on one of her dresses that showed off her figure and that neck choker and hair ribbon combination she loved.” I said, “The one where she tied her pony tail to her neck choker?” Dad said, “That’s the one. Well, on this particular occasion we were saying goodbye to the people who we invited over the party and let them out our door which looked more like an undecorated piece of wood.” I said, “I remember that door. No handles and it went all the way to the ceiling. I remember when you first put it in, it took us a whole day to find a way out of the house, and we had to climb out onto the roof and jump off to go to school.” Dad said, “Well excuse me. Who would think a door had to have handles on it to be opened? Your mom and I managed all right at this party.”

Dad said, “After the party was over, she and I were holding big stacks of dirty dishes. As we were carrying them, 1979 Elly said, ‘I Ioved the way you told them the dishes were your job!’” I said, “Dad! You didn’t say such a thing as that in front of other people, did you? Where’s your family pride?” Dad said, “Tut. Tut. Michael. I didn’t say, ‘Washing the dishes.’ I said, ‘The dishes were my job.’” I said, “Dad. That sort of subtle difference in language is the reason I became a writer.” Dad said, “Hey! Don’t blame me for that.”

Dad continued, “Then 1979 Elly was putting up dishes while I washed them, and she said, ‘And how you feel it’s only fair that the man do half the chores…’” I said, “You said that in front of other people? Is this something you believe? I feel as though I don’t know you any more.” Dad said, “Calm down, Mike. The quote is taken out of context. There should be an equal division of household labour in theory; but from a practical standpoint, while I was working in my dental practise all day, naturally I could not match your mother working on chores at home at the same time.”

I said, ‘If we both were not working, it’s only fair that the man do half the chores.’ Your mother didn’t pick up on that crucial ‘if’.” I said, “Are you saying mom was ‘if”-less?” Dad said, “Exactly.” I said, “But even if both the man and woman were not working, you don’t believe the man should do half the chores. I can’t believe you would lie like that!” Dad said, “It was the 70s. It was a different time. Women’s liberation was at its height and men found themselves having to say things they didn’t believe, in order to get along at parties and to appear ‘with it’ and ‘cool’” I said, “Well, mom knew it was a lie.” Dad said, “I know. That’s why I said to her, “Thanks for not telling them the truth!”

I said, “I don’t understand this whole thing. Are you saying if all your friends were to jump off a bridge while shouting, ‘Women and men should share the chores 50-50’, you would do the same thing?” Dad said, “In the 1970s I would.” I said, “That must have been a sad, sad time; if it makes mom look happy to think about it.”

Love,
Michael Patterson

Well, it's kinda sad U find it so disturbing 2 C Mom looking happy, Mike. Tho since she is imposing all these ptless flashbacks on the world, I M not gonna stick up 4 her.

Here is a self-portrait where I am thinking, "Why must we be trapped in these endless digressions into the past?"


Mom actually found me thinking this, read my thot bubble, and sed, "It frees up time." I was like, "Bwuh?" And she sed, "New stories take a lot of time." And I sed, "U're retired. U've got lots of time." She sed, "I need more vacations." I asked, "From what?" Mom sed, "U're such a teenager. U cdn't possibly understand." And stomped off.

Apes