My Daughter and the Birthday Supper

I invited my oldest daughter to dinner for her half birthday. It was highly embarrassing when she wrestled me to The ground for the check, and I landed in some guy’s lap. Sorry, I said. “This is my daughter.” She glared at me. “Why did you do that?” she asked me. “Why did you bite my hand?” I asked back. “I have not had a tetanus shot.” “You had one last February, remember?” I suddenly remembered who FORCED me in to get one, because she did not (prissy voice now) “Want her mother to get lock jaw.” I had screamed and wailed and begged and sniffled and sobbed. It did me no good. I got the shot that hurt less than my wailing and sobbing had. “And could I please have my credit card back now?” I asked Miss Aggressive. The waitress turned and looked when I said that, so I stuck out my tongue. I had told her up front I would be paying, after all. “Do you want to go shopping?” my daughter asked. “I can’t,” I replied. “You have my credit card.” So we looked at the dessert menu, but everything was costly, and we both knew we would end up on the floor again, maybe in sumo diapers, and we were too full to wrestle without guaranteed bouts of flatulence the next time. So we went to her house and watched six TV shows she wanted me to “see” in about forty-two minutes. Oh, my, you ask, how does anyone watch six TV shows in less than an hour? Easy when your daughter has the remote, and fast forwards through all the parts she already saw that were “too boring to see” which means you get to see some of the beginning, maybe a minute in the middle, and if you are very lucky, the ending. Another enjoyable evening with an assertive-borderline-aggressive-beyond-belief daughter who obviously takes after her daddy’s side of the family. I took her gift back, and went home. It might be her birthday, but she did not deserve a gift, due to blatant arrogance and having to be in charge of me. No one else EVER tries to be in charge of me! I dread the bleak dark end-of days when I end up at her mercy, days in the future, when I cannot see out, or walk or talk, and she is my jailer. Maybe she will deserve this birthday gift next year but I doubt it. I have brought this birthday gift over six years in a row, and as you can see, the less-aggressive one still has it.