My dad called me to pick up some boxes that contained things from my room at his house. My two younger brothers are coming home from college this summer and he only has a 3 bedroom townhouse. I’m obviously not going to be living with him anymore so there’s no sense in keeping my room in tact.

I drove down to his house and started loading the Jeep with the boxes that were in the garage. I ended up knocking over one of the boxes and a bunch of dresses much smaller than my size and concert t-shirts from country artists’ fell out. I raised my eyebrow, these weren’t my things at all. I yelled up at my father to come downstairs, I was going to give him attitude for completely not realizing who his daughter is.

Me: these aren’t my things
Dad: yes they are
Me: really? because I’ve been to a Tim McGraw concert and wear a size small? Last time I fit into a small I was coming out of the birth canal.
Dad: those must be Bella’s things mixed in with yours.

{Bella is my step sister who’s like 30 and hates me, so we don’t acknowledge each others existence. She used to crash in my room when she was fighting with her husband.}

Me: I am ashamed to call you my father. DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME?!
Dad: Look, what’s in the other box that has your name on it?
Me: I don’t know, maybe some pom pom’s and cheerleading trophies.
Dad: Oh give me a break, open it.
Me: LEGOS, PLAY DOUGH, AND MY STARWARS ACTION FIGURES!!!!!! I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU GUYS!!!
Dad: yeah, clearly I don’t know you. 
Me: ಠ_ಠ

I will be building a Lego gladiator dome for my starwar action figures to fight to the death in, and possibly make my mother a Picasso masterpiece with my play-dough when I get back home. Best night ever.