Retirement...
My dad recently retired, and as such, struggles to fill his days with enough stuff to keep him occupied. This, of course, means he's becoming one almighty ballache for anyone in the house. Thankfully I don't live there anymore, but I still feel the effects of the bored mind of my father whenever I chat on the phone or go home for a few days.

Firstly, he throws away anything he deems to be rubbish if it's been out on a table or sideboard for more the 5 minutes. I had a receipt for a coconut that was rotten inside, along with the sticker from it, that I intended to take back to the shops. I went up to get my coat, and efficient as ever, the receipt was already screwed up, binned, with the bin taken outside by the time I got back down. Typically, when questioned about where stuff's gone, he'll forget doing it or if he did remember, make a fuss about how it wasn't obviously not rubbish.

He also recently decided to rearrange the contents of the cupboards in the kitchen. After my whole life of having the plates, bowls, cups, mugs and glasses being in their respective cupboards, my dad decided that that wasn't a logical setup anymore. Months after doing this, I still find myself opening and closing cupboards like a loon whenever I want to find a utensil, effectively making the most basic of chore 3 times as long because I've had 20 odd years of routine and habit to reprogram. The irritating thing is that the cupboards are still named after the previous thing they contained, so if I shout to my dad "where are the mugs?" he'll calmly respond, "In the plate cupboard!"

Even when I'm in my flat, miles from home, I still get emails with terrible/borderline-racist jokes, or shitty gif animations or Powerpoint slideshows of stuff that was probably created on b3ta years and years ago. I'm yet to receive the glasscock, but I'm sure it'll come soon (ahem...not like that). To top that off, if I don't respond, he calls me to ask if I got it, and asks if I forwarded it to any of my friends. I say "No." He asks, "Why?". I tell him it's crap. He still sends me stuff. The best ones are the really, really stupid ones that say forward this to 20 people and an amazing video will appear. I've explained to him that there is no way that this will work, but he still does them. He then gets angry when my Uncle emails him to tell him to stop putting his email address on crappy chain emails 'cos he's sick of getting spam.

And god...the phonecalls... They seem to go on forever (a bit like this rant I suppose). He always tells me the same story over and over again on different occasions, forgetting that he's told me them already. On a number of times he's rung me while I was in half asleep, and foolishly I've answered. I then tell him I was actually half asleep, and then just lie there with the phone rested on my head saying 'yes' and 'no' until he has finished his 'abridged' phonecall, which still goes on for 15 minutes.

The only time his memory loss was a benefit was one Christmas he called me and asked, in a proud and enthusiastic tone, whether I wanted an iPod dock as a present. I then proceeded to explain why I didn't need one, because I'd just listen to the music on my computer if I was in my room, and had no need for one. His voice dropped, and he sheepishly carried on the conversation. I could tell he'd already bought me it and was selling me the idea. Fortunately, the next day, he called again and asked the exact same question, and I told him how that would be a perfect present. It turns out that I do use it quite a lot now, so kudos.

But the scariest thing of all is when I'm with friends or family and I make a terrible, terrible joke or pun, and someone says, "That's exactly what your dad would say!" Or if he gets really angry for something pathetic, and I actually see his side of the argument and agree. It's inevitable...we all become old and it happens sooner than you think.
( guffguff fuckes your gradeds balls!, Sun 28 Nov 2010, 17:59, 5 replies)

throwing stuff away
my dad does this too, if i sit down for more than 5 minutes at his place, i find myself in the recycling bin.

arrrrgh. what's wrong with a bit of hoarding?
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 28 Nov 2010, 18:29, closed)

Yup.
My mum's a bit like this too – she's sixty-one and already has early stage dementia. My memory's pretty bad already and I know I'll end up just like her. :(
(idle insomniac enjoys listening to Sigur Rós at stupid hours, Sun 28 Nov 2010, 21:15, closed)

My dad does all of this, minus the emails
thank the lord, he can't work that out.

Seriously, how do you cope? He drives me to my wits end sometimes.
(Petite chien is going to do science to it, Sun 28 Nov 2010, 23:32, closed)

Please explain...
You had a coconut that was rotten inside, that you planned to take back to the shops, along with the sticker that came with it?
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Mon 29 Nov 2010, 15:14, closed)

Yes.
I had a coconut, which had a sticker on it with the barcode and best before date, and a handy label informing me it was a coconut. I thought it'd be good to take that with me too to strengthen my case that the coconut was rotten before its time.
( guffguff fuckes your gradeds balls!, Mon 29 Nov 2010, 18:07, closed)