It was a peaceful Friday night. I was enjoying time alone since my husband was out of state visiting his mom for Mother’s Day.

At 11:50 pm I got a phone call. It was my dad. “Well, I’m officially homeless,” he said.

FUCK. MY. FUCKING. LIFE.

Long story short–he was renting a room in some lady’s house and apparently it started going sour right after my dad got married a few weeks ago. She started doing petting shit like hiding the pots and pans. She even hid the microwave in her bedroom. She accused my dad of not paying rent, and filed a restraining order against him. (She was totally lying. Both court cases were dismissed.)

Anyway, obviously that situation wasn’t working out. Funny thing, my dad never officially asked me if he could come stay with us. So after he told me about all the drama I said, “So… does that mean you need to come here?”

Yes.

FUCK. MY. FUCKING. LIFE.

Everything after that is a blur, but I SWEAR I remember him saying that once he got his income tax and his first paycheck from his new job, that’d be enough for him and his new wife/family to finally get a place together. Doesn’t sound like long, right?

I never had an official conversation with him about how long he could stay. That week I was on my way out of town for a work conference and to give a presentation, so my mind was focused on that, not him.

I felt sick to my stomach having to call my husband–who was out of town–and tell him, “Oh, hey. My dad just moved in.” I had to make that phone call TWICE before when my mom and siblings moved in.

My husband’s response was better than I expected. As with most situations, he’s all “It’s not the end of the world. Things happen. It’s not that bad. Just be glad you’re able to help him out.”

So he’s here. And by the way–my dad is an EXTREMELY TALKATIVE guy. He NEVER shuts up. He talks about all his drama (work, court cases, my mom, my siblings, his new step-kids, his landlords, car trouble, money issues, medical issues, etc.) EVERYTHING that comes out of his mouth is drama and bad news. EVERYTHING bad that happens is someone else’s fault. In every situation, he’s right and everyone else is wrong. Honestly, I believe all his bad luck is karma since he was such a shitty husband to my mom for 25 years.

I’ve told him before that all his bad news makes my anxiety worse. But he’ll only stop temporarily and start back up again the next day.

I feel so bad for my husband. After work he usually relaxes on the couch, eats dinner, maybe watches a game and does some homework. Now he’s confined to our bedroom (with me) because if we stay out in the common area, my dad will literally talk us to sleep.

Apparently he’ll be here until the first week of July. He’ll use the next few weeks to save up his paychecks for a place.

FUCK. MY. FUCKING. LIFE.

Narcissistic behaviors/traits displayed by dad:

Blames problems on others

Believes they are always right and their choices/opinions are the best

Very egotistical, overly-confident

Believes they are unique and special

Like to exaggerate their achievements and talents

Always looking for favorable treatment; intense need for admiration