Good Father, Shitty Father

Friday was my son’s final Marching Band performance. Picked him up. Stayed out to 4am. He just got his license, so this was a convenient time to teach what too-tired driving is like. Of course, it’s dangerous, don’t do it. But like Nitrogen Narcosis, it should be experienced under observation for full effect. We goof off watching YouTube videos, readying inventory, and making 80% AR-15s and 1911s for the weekend. I let him drive himself home, say goodbye, and I head south to the warehouse. I stop in at a Wal Mart along the way to see if they have any ammo I could use. Nope. Leaving. Get out to the car, start her up, check mirrors, find reverse, clutch still down, I wait for morons to waddle clear. Redneck with more kids than he can keep track of screams and beats on my car… Whatever, dumbass. He beats his chest, no harm done, whatever. Neither he nor his spawn were in harm’s way. As they finally clear, I back out, and proceed to leave the parking lot, where one of his unruly brats sprints out in front of me, paying no attention. I dodge. He has another outburst. At me, not his stupid kid.

Responsibility. I hit the brakes and roll down my window, curious how his parenting failures are my doing. I inquire. Profanity and threats against my life ensue. Really? This is how far it goes? Teaching his kids not to run out into traffic, not his responsibility. Apparently that’s on me. Then, bragging to his, er, woman I think it was, that she should watch how kicking someone’s ass is done. He punches the pillar of my car and reaches for the door handle, which is locked, thanks VW. I clear leather and drop safety, holding as close to low ready as I can while seated in a car.

The “I bit off way more than I can chew” look appears.

No, this isn’t about being macho and putting trash in it’s place. Maybe that happened, but that’s not the point.

Using your kids’ bad behavior, and example of your shitty parenting, as a jumping off point to pick a fight with a total stranger in a Wal Mart parking lot at 8:30pm doesn’t seem like good parenting to me. If you can’t keep your kids under control, which I understand happens, at least be man enough to own it. Picking a fight which could result in you bleeding out before their eyes doesn’t seem like the responsible course of action. Granted, they’re all living off of welfare so it won’t really affect them as far as housing/food goes, but watching your dad act like a huge dick and then get shot is probably not a fun way to start life.

I had no intention of starting an altercation. I was simply going to say that yelling at everyone else isn’t going to fix this problem. I care more about his kid than he does, apparently. Wearing your dick on your sleeve looking for a fight. Using your kids as the excuse. No concern for the fact that they are running out in front of cars, that’s fine. This is what the word “man” has become…

What if… What if I were a Black Lives Matter activist? What would his children be doing right now as I type this?

If you have to go to this extreme to prove you’re a man, you’re not. Not even close. You can’t even see what ‘man’ is from where this so-called “person” was standing.

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