She had a lot of opinions on how other people should raise their children and had been outraged when our church opened a daycare center. Mom had graduated with a degree in home economics and thought it was cruel when other families allowed their kids to eat dinner in front of the TV. We had the big house in the country, five happy kids, and an American flag flying on the front porch. In the Christian parenting books he authored, we were always the perfect family.
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This was not the way my father would have written our story. After years of trying, we had finally caught my father soliciting sex from strangers. The camera recorded its own reflection in the dark glass as they waited. They pulled up to him like they were waiting at a stoplight. They sped after him until he stopped just as abruptly as he’d taken off. When he realized it was his two sons in the car, and not the guy who had responded to his personal ad, he hit the gas and his tires screeched as he took off in the opposite direction. Was that something you did when you were meeting a teenager for sex in the alley behind a sporting goods store? They drove closer, unsure of what would happen next.ĭad had sent the time and location for the meet-up, expecting a quickie.
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I never noticed how dark his windows were tinted, but now it made sense. The video camera focused on Dad’s car in the distance. Now it was about this time I realized my dad was a 8 story tall crustacean from the Paleozoic era.My brothers started recording as soon as they hit the parking lot.
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My mind was racing and I didn't know how to act. I really didn't know what to think at this point. "I need you to get something for me," he said to me. He put his hand on my shoulder and slowly started sliding it down. All I knew was that I was incredibly uncomfortable by him getting in the tub with me. Now, I didn't know what sex was at this point, so I really didn't know what he was about to do to me. He crept ever closer to me until we were side-by-side. Well, dad got in the tub with me, and I felt super awkward. "Can you take a bath after me instead?" I asked him. He started undressing himself and I asked him what he was doing. But on the last day, dad decided that once he filled up the tub, he'd take it upon himself to join me too. I just figured I'd deal with it for the next few days and then mom would get back, no-big-deal. I didn't really want to ask him to leave, because that would probably upset him or something, and I didn't want that to happen. Dad would fill up the tub for me, but he wouldn't leave. But, whenever mom would fill up the tub and make sure I was alright, she'd leave and let me have my privacy. On the last day before my mom had planned to come back, my dad had done the usual routine of turning on the faucet and letting me play in the tub and stuff. Luckily mom let him watch over me at her house instead, so I didn't have to go over to his place for the days that she wasn't there. Nothing ever really made me dislike my dad personally (by that point), but I just happened to enjoy my mom's company a little more. He'd tell me of this one old couple in particular who he loved following to beg for money, mainly because the wife would always end up giving him a dollar or two while getting yelled at by the husband for her charitable actions. A lot of times I remember he'd leave me back at his place when I stayed over there, alone, so he could go follow people on the street and ask for money. Don't get me wrong, dad could be nice at times, but his lack of any real income (he didn't work at all) lead to varying quality of experiences whenever I was over there. Of the few times that I've been over to his 'shack' of a home, I can only remember having bad experiences over there. Maybe the most homeless you could actually call someone without them being actually homeless. My dad didn't live with us since my parents were divorced, and he was pretty much just about homeless. I wish she had been there instead, though.
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I was too busy being a kid to understand what happened to him, so my dad ended up watching over me for the next couple of days while my mom was gone. I don't know, it didn't really concern me at the time. My mom was usually always there to help me fill up the tub and turn the faucet on and everything too, but she happened to be out visiting her father in the hospital after he was robbed or something. I'd always pour a bunch of soap in it and have a large bubble bath to play around in with my toys and shit. My own tub in my bathroom was filthy dirty and I refused to wash in it, and my mom didn't seem to mind me using her tub.
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#4 This reminds me of a similar story that happened to me when I was younger.īack when I was maybe around 8 years old or so, I was taking a bath in my mom's tub.