One christmas I saved my money and bought my father a plaque for his desk at work. Such a young chick, I was oblivious to its actual meaning.
There was a late afternoon ritual every week day My father would come home from work, he and my mother would disappear into their bedroom. As he shed his suit, he would rant, rave and froth at the mouth about his co-workers. They were stupid, useless, liars, stealing clients, not doing their jobs. There was a different story every day about how someone had underminded him, cheated etc. He deserved better, had earned better, was better than everyone else. His rage would scream VICTIM, VICTIM, VICTIM. Faultless and unaccountable.
You can’t soar with the eagles when you work with turkeys – the plaque read
Ah well, from the mouths of babes. Too innocent to understand the insult, I always wondered why he never took it in to work to display on his desk.
We no longer talk for many reasons. One being that I’ve discarded my quest to gain his approval, to please him. We’re on the outs, he’s the victim again because I’ve wronged him and have just become the proverbial turkey to his eagle. Or perhaps I always have been? Regardless, it’s rather fitting for christmas.
Deckkkkkk your balls with mounds of hollyyyyyyy
Fa la la la laaaaaaaaaah, la la la laaaahhhhhhh