What A Pissy Attitude

My brother and I are twenty-six and thirty-two respectively, and we live with our parents because the economy sucks.

One of the fuses in our apartment went out. I contacted the property manager, but it was Saturday night and she couldn’t get someone from maintenance to come out until Monday, seeing as it wasn’t an emergency — just that a couple of lights and outlets weren’t working, but nothing pressing. One of the lights not working was in the bathroom. 

Around midnight that same night, Dad had to pee. Instead of sitting on the toilet or something, he apparently just could not aim properly and peed all around the area of the toilet. Mom overheard him cursing about it and came to get me, because she’s blind and, well, that shit is nasty. So, I had to get out of bed and go wash the bathroom floor.

When I asked him why he couldn’t just sit to pee until it was fixed, he angrily retorted, “Well, if someone would finally call the property manager so we can get the fuse fixed, then I could see what I was doing!“

“Dad, I already called,” I explained. “They can’t send anybody out until Monday.”

“Oh.”

For the rest of the weekend, he was able to magically not pee on the floor, even at night. That’s when I knew it was done out of spite.