So Dad just called me from hospital with the fateful words “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”
My reaction was a modified desire to punch him. So Dad, you’ve just gone through a serious operation…this had better not be anything really bad.
I opted for the bad news first in the hopes that the good news would cheer me up. Turns out he has MRSA. The good news? The operation went well and he can go home tonight.
Parents can be a little infuriating. My Dad went with my younger sister to see a mortgage advisor recently. His contribution to the discussion? To suggest that my sister had a cocaine addiction and therefore wouldn’t be able to afford a big mortgage. :p