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Ooh, maybe I've gotten in trouble... a bit. Last night I got mad at my Dad and I told him he was mean to me. Of course he didn't say anything, and now he probably won't say anything to me for a few days. Not that he says much anyway, because he's not that kind of a guy.

But anyway, my brubber and I were on a shared server during Minecraft and I sent a rant to him about my dad, and then he came upstairs and offered to listen and was nice to me all evening. : D : D My brubber is the best brubber in the world! Even if he does get on my bed and mess it up so much the bottom sheet gets untucked!

But I am afraid my dad heard me complaining and now he will be really cross for days. I know he does a lot. I know he puts up with a lot.

Those Winter Sundays
Robert Hayden

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

*sigh* Anyway, I have the best brubber in the whole world - this week!