Dad Needs A Credit Check

(After two packages are stolen off of my doorstep, I start listing my parents’ house as the shipping address. Their house and neighborhood are more secure, and they are more frequently home to receive packages, anyway. I see my mom several times a week, and I just pick things up when I visit. After a few months of doing this, I get a call from Dad.)

Dad: “There’s a package here for you. A big one.”

Me: “Oh, thanks! Tell Mom I’ll grab it when I see her tomorrow.”

Dad: “You’re not grabbing anything until we talk about how much of our money you waste.”

Me: “Oh, was there some sort of postage needed or something?”

Dad: “No! You have at least one package delivered here a week. That’s hundreds of dollars you’re putting on my credit card!”

Me: *confused* “I am spending my own money, though, Dad.”

Dad: “Well, obviously, you’re not. It’s delivered here.”

Me: “Yes, it’s delivered to your house, but I put it on my credit card.”

Dad: “That’s not how things work. Things are delivered to the address on the credit card. You’re putting things on my credit card.”

Me: “Dad, that’s… literally not how anything works. I just ask them to deliver stuff to your address, but I’m paying for it.”

Dad: “Don’t lecture me! I know how these things work!”

Me: “Have you ever ordered anything online?”

Dad: “No, I leave that to your mother.”

Me: “Why don’t you ask her how this works, then?”

Dad: “Fine, but I’ll be going through my credit card bill, and you’ll be paying me back for everything you bought this month.”

(Mom apparently talked to him, and he never mentioned it again.)