Ever felt invisible at home? That’s been my life. I’m Irene, and this is how my brother Josh and I taught our Dad a lesson he’d never forget.
It was a typical Tuesday evening. I was doing math homework while Josh read a comic book. The clock ticked toward 6 p.m.
Dad came in, briefcase in hand, barely acknowledging us. “Hey.”
I hoped for a smile or a “How was your day?” but got nothing. Instead, he shouted, “Mariam! Where’s my dinner?”
Mom, looking frazzled, replied from the laundry room, “Coming, Carl. Just finishing up the laundry.”
Dad grunted and plopped down on the couch, starting his PlayStation without a word to us. The game’s sounds filled the room.
Josh and I exchanged glances. This was our normal, but it didn’t hurt any less.
A man holding a gaming console | Source: Pexels
Mom, exhausted, tried to explain. “I’m sorry, Carl. I’ve been busy with work—”
“Busy?” Dad scoffed. “I work too. Is it too much to ask for a clean house?”
My blood boiled. Mom worked full-time, did all the cooking and cleaning, and took care of us. Dad’s routine was work, eat, play video games, sleep. Rinse and repeat.
“That’s it,” I muttered. I turned to Josh. “We need to do something.”
Josh raised an eyebrow. “About what?”
“About Dad. He treats Mom like dirt and us like we don’t exist. We need to show him what it feels like.”
Josh grinned. “I’m listening.”
We hatched a plan. We’d give Dad a taste of his own medicine. We convinced Mom to take a spa day, promising we’d handle things at home.
As 6 p.m. approached, we raided Dad’s closet, pulling out his shirts and ties. The clothes hung off us, but that was part of the effect.
“Ready?” I asked as Dad’s car pulled in.
Josh nodded, adjusting his oversized tie. “Let’s do this.”
We took our places—Josh on the couch with a magazine and me by the door. My heart raced as Dad entered.
He froze, seeing us in his clothes. “What’s going on here? Why are you wearing my shirt?”
I mimicked his demanding tone. “I need my dinner.”
Josh didn’t look up from his magazine. “And don’t forget to clean up the PlayStation when you’re done.”
Dad was confused. “What are you two doing?”
I waved him off. “I’m busy. Don’t bother me with questions.”
Josh added, “Yeah, go ask Mom. Isn’t that what you usually do?”
Dad’s expression shifted from confusion to realization. “Is this how you see me?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes, Dad. This is how you’ve been treating us and Mom. You’re always too busy and treat Mom like a servant.”
Josh added, “She works just as hard as you and manages everything at home. And all you do is complain and demand.”
Dad’s shoulders slumped. Before he could respond, Mom walked in, surprised and relaxed.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Dad turned to her, tears in his eyes. “I’ve been a terrible husband and father. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how bad it was until now.”
He walked into the kitchen and started cooking. “Making dinner! Please, sit down.”
Josh and I looked at each other, then joined Mom at the table. Dad served dinner, apologizing for everything.
“I’ve been neglecting you all. I’ll do better, I promise.”
As we ate, Dad was present, genuinely asking about our day. It felt strange but nice.
“So,” Dad asked, “how’s school?”
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ve got a big history test coming up.”
Dad nodded, interested. “Maybe I could help you study?”
I was surprised. “That’d be great.”
As we finished dinner, Dad smiled warmly. “Thank you for showing me how I was acting. I needed that wake-up call.”
I felt warmth. “We’re just glad you listened.”
Josh grinned. “And maybe now you’ll actually join us for some PlayStation?”
Dad laughed, a genuine laugh. “Deal. But first, let’s clean up together.”
As we cleaned up, I felt hopeful. It was just one night, and things wouldn’t be perfect overnight, but it was a start. For the first time in years, we felt like a family again.
Leave a Reply