When The Pedant was here on Christmas day he had a bunch of times where he couldn’t grasp something I was saying to him and jumped straight to assuming that I didn’t know what I was talking about.
This is the defining feature of my relationship with my dad – I say a thing and he misinterprets it based on (apparently) believing that I’m incredibly stupid. (Or just proactively assumes I’m stupid before I’ve said or done anything*, but The Pedant doesn’t do that part.)
For instance, he helped me move my two small, low dressers side-by-side under the loft bed that Mine made for me. I wanted to have access to an outlet under there (just in case I ever used the remaining underbed space to lay out a sewing project or something) and the only outlet was on the wall where the dressers would be, so I plugged a power bar into it so that it would stick out in-between the dressers. Unfortunately the cord on the power bar was a wee bit too short; I had hoped to push the dressers almost all the way together with just the cord between them, but instead part of the bar was stuck between, making a gap of 2 inches or so. I said to The Pedant that I wished I could scootch the dressers closer together but since the power bar was in the way, this would have to do. He apparently thought I meant that I wanted the dressers closer to the wall, and started prattling on and on about how some power bars have a low-profile plug on them so I just needed to get one of those. I repeatedly said “No, I’m not talking about that, yes, I know about low-profile plugs, that’s not the issue, I’m talking about the dressers being closer to each other and that would require a longer cord, not a different plug, dude just look where I’m pointing.” He wouldn’t shut up about his thing and finally I said “You’re not listening to me and I’m running out of patience so I need to leave the room for a minute” and just walked out to stand in my hallway and take some deep breaths for a while.
Not long after that I indicated with hand gestures where I intended on moving the remaining, tall dresser, and said that of course I’d have to take the mirror off that wall first. The Pedant kept insisting that the dresser wouldn’t block the mirror, because (again) he was assuming that I’d meant something different than what I’d actually indicated.
He’s done shit like that on occasion in the past. Now I’m wondering if he’s always been this bad but I just overlooked it because I had feelings for him. How totally creepy to think that I’d been dating someone so similar to my father in such a major way. Ew ew ew ew fucking ew.
*I can’t remember if I’ve told this story here before but one time my dad and I were on a road trip and we got some McDonald’s drive-thru. I accidentally dropped a fry and as I bent down to retrieve it from the floor of the car, dad said “Don’t put it back in the box.” YEAH THANKS DAD I WAS TOTALLY GONNA PUT THIS FLOOR-GRIT-COATED FRY BACK IN WITH THE ONES WE’RE EATING. TRULY, YOUR PRESCIENCE HAS SAVED THE DAY. I was like fifteen at the time, btw. That’s what my dad is like with me. All. The. Time.