September 30th, 2005

(no subject)

A night of gathering at the Severance household is never plagued by worries of if and when a parent will return to find their child boozing and balling with their underage friends. This is because my father, simply put, rules. I know it, and all my friends know it, because every time they come over, my father pulls another "I understand the age" card and lets us do our thing more than any other parent would.

My dad has come in at times that alcoholic friends from the 802 were over drinking like fish with yours truly, and all he seems to care about is smoking a bong before challenging my friends to a game of pool (at which he schools each and every one of them). He doesn't care if we drink his alcohol, and he doesn't mind any noise just so long as it doesn't wake the neighbors. In fact, my dad is probably the only figure of authority I've been able to say the words, "Dad, quit stealin' all my 40" to.

And let it be known that his lenience does not go unnoticed. Time and time again I wake up halfway through the next day with a bottomless Ben in my bed, and all I can say to my dad is "Thanks for being so fucking cool all the time." I wondered if he knew how much my friends and I appreciated his understanding of our immature youth and social drinking ways. My friends were always down to chill out with "Mr. Styles," and enjoyed the insane ass-kicking of his pool games. But last night they did an honorable thing themselves and let him know just how much they cared.



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