My Dad's trying to kill me, and other reasons why he needs to move out.

*warning, some gross stuff ahead*

On the day that Armondo went back fishing, I got some Chinese food to bring home to eat for dinner. My dad had already taken some ground beef out of the freezer to thaw that day, so I just popped it back into the fridge.

Then my dad went away for a couple of days and I forgot about the ground beef, until today, when I was a little weary of cooking up ground beef that had been sitting out for three days. I googled to find out how long you can leave ground beef before cooking and the common answer that I got was two days if it had been removed from its original packaging (it had). Being that it had been out for 3 days, I wasn't too keen on cooking it up. And since it's hot these days, I didn't bother tossing it out either, thinking it would be best to toss it out right on garbage day.

Then my dad comes home and decides he's going to cook it up. As he was opening one of the small packages, I told him what I found online and told him I wasn't going to eat any of it if he cooked it up, so he decided to give that chunk to the dogs. "Outside!" I demanded.

Then, he comes back in, picks up the plate, opens the fridge door with his meat covered hands and goes to put the meat back. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, DAD?!?" I screech at him.

"What!? I'm just putting it back into the fridge!"

"Wash your hands first, instead of getting raw meat all over the place!"

He then slams the plate into the fridge, grunts, goes over to the sink, washes his hands, takes the cloth and wipes the fridge handle, grunts again, and leaves the room in a huff.

LATER...

After Cherry had gone to bed, I was going back and forth doing laundry and washing the dishes while my dad was watching a movie. At one point when I was in my room folding laundry, my dad got up to have a pee, and left the door open. This isn't a totally rare occurrence in our house for two reasons. One, when you close the door, the animals all whine outside of the door, scratch, and sometimes bark. Two, the toilet is around a corner, so you can't really see anyone peeing anyway, so it's not a big deal. (And he thought I was in my bedroom.)

Anyway, after he peed, he left the bathroom without washing his hands. I've had my suspicions in the past that he was doing this, but this was the only time I was 100% sure.

"Ack! Dad! Why don't you wash your hands after you pee!?!"

"Because I don't pee on my hands!"

"But you touch your PENIS!"

While I'm saying all this, he's searching through the clean plates in the dry rack looking for a small one.

"Here!" I say, as I grab the plate out of his hand. I reach in the front of my drawers, get a good rub on, and smear my hand on his plate and hand it back.

His response?

"Want some cake?"

I snatch the plate back and wash it as he leaves the room.

Seconds later, I say "Dad? Do you know what Staph is?!?"

"I don't need the lecture right now" he says.

Don't need the lecture!?!? Don't need the lecture?!? You're 55 fuc#ing years old, and you still haven't figured out that you need to wash your hands after you go to the bathroom! You're applying for jobs for the local health region, and you don't know that you have to wash your hands. Every time I turn on a light or open the fridge I'm practically shaking hands with your penis. Every time you pick up your granddaughter, you're rubbing your penis epithelials all over her. And you don't need a lecture!

No, I didn't say all that to him. But damn straight, I'm sending it in an email to him tonight, since he has hidden away in his room.

I'm starting to suspect that the reason I've been getting sick over and over, every few days is because of him, and not due to the pregnancy, because I've been over the morning sickness for a couple of weeks now, but seem to get sick about once or twice a week.

And the other reason why he needs to go.

He's LAZY.

Yes, he did a bunch of work on the yard when he first got here. Yes he painted Cherry's room. But that's where it ended. He never finished the yard. (There's one and a half gardens left to weed, and he hasn't touched them in weeks.) And he's been letting the back lawn go to seed. (I told him that Armondo would do it when he got home, but since he was only here for one day, he didn't do it. I figure that my dad should step up and do it now.)

A couple of weeks ago, while he was watching her, Cherry spilled some luke-warm coffee on our couch. We have a removable slip cover, so he quickly removed it, put stain stuff on the couch underneath, and threw the couch cover, a cushion cover and a couple of other items into the wash. After they had washed, he hung them on the line to dry. (The cover would shrink if it was put in the dryer.) A WHOLE week later, I asked him to remove the couch cover from the line. He did. And he left the rest of the stuff on the line. FOR ANOTHER FULL WEEK. Also, when he was doing Cherry's room, he removed an area rug from the room and put it outside to be out of the way. He then left it outside for two weeks, during which it rained for a full week. So, a couple of days ago, I told him I was pissed off that he left the clothes on the line all this time, and that he left the rug out to rot in the rain. I told him that it would be nice if he figured out a way to let the rug dry out and if he could bring it back inside once it had dried. So, today, finally, he brought the dry rug and the clothes inside. He still left the laundry basket outside, and didn't bother to put the cover back on the cushion, but he brought everything else inside.

Also, he does NOTHING around the house. He doesn't do dishes unless I ask (It's been three times since he's been here) and doesn't do any other type of cleaning unless asked. (I asked him to sweep the floor once.) I made up a chore list for myself and for when Armondo gets home that lists very specific chores for each day of the month. I told my dad about it when he saw it posted on the fridge, and told him to feel free to do any of the chores if he saw that they weren't crossed out for the day. He hasn't done any of them.

One of the chores on the list is watering the gardens. In that first week he was here, he watered the gardens without being asked. After a while, the novelty must have worn off, because (this last, rainy week excluded), I've asked him every watering day if he's watered the garden, (knowing full well he hadn't) and after he says no, I tell him that I'll do it after I'm done the dishes or whatever. And he doesn't move off the couch to offer to do it. Even. Though. I'm. Doing. His. Dishes.

I'm going to talk to him about his laziness, but I didn't today, because he said he wasn't feeling well, and he had been gone for two days, so I figured I could give him a break. I'm pretty close to losing it though. I like my dad, but it's time he moved on.