Daddy Pulled Rank
A funny thing happened to me over the holiday season. I probably should have blogged about it at the time, but… if you’re here, you already know I’m horrible when it comes to blogging. I could make the same New Year’s resolution that I made last year–“I do so solemnly swear I’m going to take blogging seriously this year, blah blah blah.”–but why? I think I’d much rather set an attainable goal–“I’m not going to blog for shit this year.”–that way, come December 31st, I can look back on this year with pride and say, “Nailed it!”
I’m getting off topic. A funny thing happened this last holiday season. The week before Thanksgiving, to be exact. What happened to me was this: Daddy pulled rank. And for those of you who are subs and, in specific, subs with a Little side, you know exactly how I felt in that moment.
Among many other things, I bought a turkey. It wasn’t until I got it home and was putting things away that I saw the turkey packaging had a huge 3″ gash and the meat showing through was freezer burnt. I had to take it back.
I hate taking perishable food items back to the store. They always look at you like they know you’re trying to get away with something or like they’re comparing your face with known shoplifters behind the counter. I hate doing it. In the past, I’ve bought bad lunch meat and even full jugs of milk that had soured, and usually I just throw the stuff away rather than take them back to the store. But this was an $18 turkey. I was torn. But I was also fighting a cold and I was so tired by the time I got home, and I still had a floor to vacuum and carpets to shampoo. Not wanting to deal with it, I double-bagged the turkey and stuffed it into the fridge. And deliberately forgot about it for two days.
Yesterday, still not feeling quite well and with the playspace still to clean for that weekend’s party, I made a lazy decision: I was going to throw the turkey away. It was a perishable, it was partially thawed, it had been two days since I’d bought it and people who legitimately buy bad food from grocery stores never wait two days before returning it, and I just did not want to have to deal with all those looks from customer service. And then Daddy called.
We were texting first. At one point, he mentioned Thanksgiving being just around the corner and me, forgetting who I was talking to, foolishly said, “Yeah, I know. I already bought a turkey, but I have to return it. But I think I’m going to throw it away instead.”
Two minutes later, I get the phone call. Dear Ladies and Gentlemen Dominants, never ever underestimate the power of the Look or the Voice. My DD took me from “Hello?” to “Oh shit” in the half-second it took him to say, “Do I need to drive down there and return your turkey for you?”
Er… um… N-no?
“Are you sure?”
Oh yes. Yes, I am.
“Because if you waste that money and throw it away just so you don’t have to deal with it, and I find out that you lied to me…”
You don’t even have to finish that threat, because no way in hell am I ever gonna even think about lying to you.
That turkey got returned in record time. I took a selfie of me at the store with the turkey on my way to the customer service counter, and I took another of the receipt showing the return while I was on my way back out of the store. And yes, the customer service lady was nice, but I still got the Look from her. That ‘Look’, however, was NOTHING compared to the Look Daddy gets when he decides to pull rank.
It’s hard when he lives this far away and I don’t get to see him as often as I want. But I’m grateful that he pays such close attention to what I do.
For some really weird reason, I feel compelled to watch Monsters, Inc. now.