I was clear

"Before you actually go and make reservations this time, I want to be consulted."

"I didn't even know you wanted to go. I'm getting your opinion now."

From his response, I could tell he had completely missed my reference to the upcoming family vacation. I let it go.

We successfully agreed on the date for a museum stop en route to that vacation. The exhibit I want to see is the one thing I'm looking forward to on a trip I'd just as soon skip for a cascade of reasons.

There was still the matter of picking a time slot for the exhibition tickets. Dad and I discussed it loosely in conjunction with where we might be staying, and I concluded, "I need more information. If it's going to take an hour to drive there from the hotel, then I need to know that so I can factor it in."

"You shouldn't worry about that," Dad said.

Obviously, he didn't because he went ahead, picked a time, and bought tickets without checking with me.

I am fucking pissed. Few things infuriate me as much as not being listened to, particularly when I was fucking clear. It's doubtful any greater possible clarity would've made any difference though; his listening skills are often egregious.

Upon seeing my visage transform into stone fury, Mom said of Dad, "That's typical, if you were wondering."

I hadn't been and it didn't make me feel any better.

In the grand scheme, he only picked an hour later than I would have, but the not-being-listened-to still has me livid. I want to hurl glasses into tree trunks, hear the tinkling smashes, and watch the shards radiate out in all directions until I am spent.

But the trees and the glasses aren't mine, so instead I write, silent, furious, finding a bit of calm grasping for the precise words to describe my mood.

Two years ago at TTaT: Moody, Politeness anyone? No?