Thirty Is Old Enough To Cut The Apron Strings

My dad is always suspicious of me because my older sister would sneak around with drugs all the time, so he assumed that I would, too, and told my mom to watch me. I was an introvert and had no desire to sneak, just to stay in my room and play my video games, which I did.

Time passed, and I finally got my license and bought myself a car.

One day, my dad and I were going to go out to eat somewhere and we went in my car. I was thirty at this point.

Dad: “What’s this?” *Points at the car floor*

Me: “Hm… cigarette butt?”

Dad: “Yours?!”

Me: “No, I don’t smoke.”

He glared at me.

Me: “I don’t! It’s not mine!’

Dad: “So, where did it come from?!”

Me: “I don’t know! But I don’t smoke!”

He dropped it with a knowing grunt and we ate an awkward dinner. I was wondering where it could’ve come from since I don’t allow any smokers into my car. Later, I realized that it must’ve come from someone’s shoe, stuck on from the sidewalk or something.

To this day, Dad still thinks I’m going to turn into an addict. He thinks it’s normal. I don’t, nor do I speak with him much.