Chapter 61: Bob's Midlife Crisis

Sure my dad gets on my stinkin' nerves with his business gloating. Sure, hearing about those beepers more than me makes me want to rip my hair out. Shockingly, things could have been worse…

Last week we were sitting at the Steak House, listening to Bob go on about having chosen to stay firm with his prices and appearances over showing some leniency to a few people.

"Man Bob, you're ruthless!"

I said, as I was about to take another bite of my ribs. Bob insisted that was how he got to the top though; by showing no mercy.

His body must not have felt the need to show him any mercy. Thirty seconds later, not only was his food placed in front of him, but we all watched him have a gas attack.

When he finally woke up, we were happy it was nothing serious. Serious had a different meaning for him on the other hand.

Within the next week, the man was dressing like a hippy, eating like a hippy, insisting we all hang out in a yurt? If I wanted to sweat, I could just play sports.

Olga's weepy self didn't even snap him out of it. I know, Olga NOT being about to help Bob. You'd think it would have been the best moment of my life!

Instead, his constant ability to drown out our complaints, just drew everyone into his hippy styled ways. Everyone that is… but me!

Bob and I may have nothing in common, but that doesn't mean I don't know anything about him.

I started by showing him his favorite foods. The man acted like I was trying to poison him? Sure he had a gas attack, but no one said he had to eat it all at once.

Did I have a Plan B? Well Doi! I told you just because I don't get along with my dad doesn't mean I don't know a few things about him.

While he and the rest of the family he had managed to lure into his ways were sitting in the yurt, I was busy setting up the TV where I knew he'd be able to hear. Not only that… on his favorite station!

"The Wheel!"

I heard the old man say. I knew my plan had to be working. Working that is, until he turned around to look back into his peaceful habitat.

Last was my last hope; destroying that piece of garbage! Nothing feels better than knowing you have the solution to something.

Once I saw their faces, I thought I may have actually pulled it off. Did I? Pttss… yea right.

"I see this as a sign to build a new one. A better one!"

I couldn't take it anymore. The man had gone so insane he actually wanted us all to walk barefoot to Oregon! What did he think was up there for crying out loud?

Feeling hopeless for the last week, I walked down the street (in a pair of shoes) until I at last pulled my locket out of my shirt.

Staring at my beloved's picture, I realized the worst part of this whole ordeal would be never seeing Arnold again!

As I let my emotions spill out, the football head had to creep up behind me like he always does when I want a moment alone.

"Helga?"

"Arnold! Stop creeping up on me!"

Of course his goody two shoes attitude not only made his defensive side apologize for the intrusion, but made him want to know what I was doing all alone.

After explaining my family's pathetic dilemma, the football head's advice was…

"Why don't you just talk to him?"

Talk to him? And risk being converted myself? Why on earth would I take that risk?

Even after exposing MY defensive side to his suggestion, Arnold stood by his words

"You'll have to find another way to reach him then."

Well, I may have claimed to know a few things about Bob…. but I didn't have a Plan D. What did I have to lose at that point? Besides my dignity, sheesh!

Did I manage to get the "Yurt King" away from our pathetic excuse for a new home life? Yes. That didn't mean my plan would work however.

As we stood in front of Big Bob's Beepers, dad asked

"What are we doing here?"

"I want my old dad back."

"I was a monster!"

"The old dad was someone I could look up to. At least think about it before we go tomorrow."

My words didn't seem to have much effect on him that night (at least in my opinion).

The next morning I saw Bob arriving with all our old furniture, saying he had to write a huge check to the orphanage to get it all back.

Olga didn't seem too happy about staying where we were, but could you imagine Miriam walking state after state? She can barely move from the counter!

"I thought about what you said Helga, and decided moving the family to uproot to a commune was a bit extreme."

I can live with the changes he's decided to make around here; a day off work, a veggie garden, and even that stupid yurt. Hey as long as we're not moving and I don't have to go in, it works for me.