Why I'm a Bad Child

I don't really want to write about this right now, but I know it'll make me feel better.

My parents and I have been on vacation with three friends of theirs. I was the youngest person on the trip by a generation or two. Anyways, my parents and I just got back to Minneapolis. My Mom and I were going to pick out a movie and my Dad asked me to get him a six pack on the way. I said ok at the time, but I realized I didn't want to get him a six pack at all.

I talked to Mom about it and asked if I could just not get him anything. The compromise was to get him non-alcoholic beer. I knew not getting him the beer was the right thing to do, but I was sort of dreading telling him when I got home, which went almost as badly as I expected.

This whole vacation has sort of been rocky between my Dad and I. I really don't like to watch him drink, so while I made the decision for the right reasons, it just looks like an extension of us not getting along so well right now. It's like being back in highschool. I just don't want to be around him and apparently I only like my Mother. It's all very strange.

Ok, that's all I can stand for now. I hate typing when my fingernails are this long, it just feels wrong.