The Old Man

For those of you who don't know, I have a big family. Two stepbrothers and one stepsister. And a blood-related sister and brother.

Well yesterday, me and my blood-related sister and brother, Kim and Chris, crashed our dad's house while he and my step-mom were out. We played their Wii and ate their food and drank all their sodas.

When my parents came home to a house full of children that they had already shooed from the roost, they perked up. I find it hilarious that my parents couldn't wait to get all six of us all grown up and out on our own, and now that we are? They want to buy us dinner, take us to movies, put gas in our cars, and bribe us to come back home more often with shopping trips and new games for the Wii.

Haha! They have such a bad case of Empty Nest Syndrome.

God bless my dad. He's a good man. He's loyal. Honest to a fault. And hard working. Solid in his faith in God.

But Kim, Chris, and I gave my dad the hardest time when we were growing up. We were always into something or up to something.

Kim and Chris had their rounds with random drugs. And I just hated high school and skipped class half the time and nearly didn't graduate on time.

We were trouble makers.

So it wasn't really a surprise when Chris came home one day with his shoulders, back and chest covered in one solid tattoo.

And I suppose it wasn't a shocker when Kim came home with two of her own.

My dad figured I was his last hope. His last remaining proof that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't failed completely as a father. Well, yesterday my father's hopes came crashing down.

I live in a small, tiny, minuscule, think even smaller than that, town. So apparently word gets around fast. Especially when your step-mother is a judge and your father is a firefighter... I swear they know everyone.

Ever since I'd gotten my rather large tattoo down my left arm, I'd been wearing long sleeves. Of course it's something I'm proud of. It's Isaiah 43:3-4, some of my favorite verses.

Well when my dad got home, he looked at me and said, "So when were you planning on telling me about your tattoo?"

My brother and sister stop dead in the middle of their virtual tennis game, and the ball goes double-bouncing into my brother's court. But he was watching me and so was my sister.

Crap. "Uh..." How in the world did he find out?

My step-mother is standing behind my dad, with her arms crossed. Grinning from ear-to-ear. What was so funny?

I clear my throat and swallow loudly. "Uh, I was planning on it. So who was it that beat me to the punch?"

I glare over at my siblings. They both shake their heads profusely and throw their hands up in the air, with Wii remotes dangling from their wrists.

With one look back at my parents, I know they're not giving up any names.

Ugh. Freaking-small-can't-do-anything-without-somebody-being-up-your-butt town!

Chris comes to my defense. "Hey dad, it's no big deal, mine's way bigger."

Kim chimes in too. "Yeah dad, I have two. At least she only got one." Extra emphasis on the one.

My dad chuckles. "Yep, that's because I raised three idiots."