My Dad,
as I have said, thinks I am still a child with no brains. He once ran into my room upon hearing me operating a cordless screwdriver and hurriedly made sure I understood how to work it. My cordless screwdriver. Which I had used to assist in building all my bedroom furniture when I had moved back in, and kit an entire house out in shiny MDF goodness in the previous years.

I politely but firmly suggested he might like to go away, as I had just discovered he had done me the massive favour of losing most of my screwdriver heads and all of my drill bits.

On another occasion, he threw a massive tantrum after having bought his first ever computer, a shiny new PC waaaaay back in 1998. The problems with the PC (which I later inherited for a few years) would come later, this particular bout of hissy-fitting was due to the "stupid bloody desk" that he couldn't assemble because all the parts were "too wee and fiddly" and the screws were all "wonky".

He stomped off downstairs, leaving the unassembled mess in his bedroom.

About 10 minutes later, I called him up to admire the lovely new desk I had assembled. It turned out that one of the "fiddly" wee bits was in fact an alan key, which I had used to screw in the "wonky" screws.

I don't know if it was anger or shame, but the heat his face was giving out was quite powerful.....
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Mon 7 Apr 2008, 20:33, Reply)