Dinner With Dad

Dad gave me an update on the whole firehouse deal after dinner at my parent's place tonight. During the "briefing" Dad pulled out some files he had collected in manila folders. One of them contained a letter from a fellow fireman about a threat he had received from an administrator at the house where Dad and this other fellow worked. I wasn't really interested. The whole deal seems blown out of proportion to me, the basic gist of it is Dad went on a personal crusade against a Chief in the department and a firehouse administrator that Dad hates. His crusade seems to have backfired on him somewhat, and his solution to the whole ordeal was to try to commit suicide- a couple of times. In Dad's misguided world suicide is a heroic thing. I see it as the ultimate act of cowardice. Dad figured if he was dead, this Chief and the administrator wouldn't be able to sue him for his assets. Things don't work that way in the real world. People can still sue your estate, I believe. I don't know how Dad has been able to get through this many years of life and still not be aware of things like this.

As Dad was thumbing through the rest of the papers and manila folders he had strewn across the kitchen table, I made a discovery that caused me to do a massive double take and almost spit up my drink. On one of the folders I saw the Couch Potato's name written in giant letters. I kept my composure and I asked him about his counsellor. It seems, my father has been seeing the same therapist I am...