Day 4: My parents

Oh dear... Day four. I'm doing this one early because I'm not going to be home at all today, but it's okay, because it's technically day four anyway.

In Day Three, I explained to you a bit about how much I love my mother. SO MUCH. I'm a momma's boy, and proud of it. She would bend over backwards for me, and has proved as much time and time again. My mother is an earth spirit. She's very homey, she likes nature, she likes to craft. She loves her 50+ chickens almost as much as she loves her kids. And I mean kids as in baby goats (seriously, I live on a freaking farm...). And she loves them almost as much as she loves her children. And she loves all of them so much more than she loves her husband.

My dad is a little more complicated. We get along over random stuff. Fixing my car, shooting, building stuff, playing arcade games (usually some kind of shooter). Typical guy stuff. When he can pretend I'm straight is when we get along the  most. I think that's where our relationship hits the road bump. He knows. I know he knows. And he knows that I know that he knows. But he (and I blame the military for this) is so strictly Don't Ask Don't Tell, that he won't bring it up, and I'll be damned if I'm going to say anything until I am absolutely ready to be disowned by him. I don't think it would be that extreme, but I know the day that I have to tell him, shit will hit the fan. Like I said, I blame the navy for so many things: his narrow-mindedness, his short temper, his ill patience, his need to run the family like a militaristic dictatorship. Nightmare. However, on most days, I don't hate my dad, and, on most days, he doesn't hate me... but we have our moments.

Momma's boy, through and through,
Ash