When my Dad
used to get angry with me
which he did often because I was never quite up to scratch
in the daughter department and he was never quite satisfied that I wasn’t a mental defective
his face used to turn an alarming shade of red when he started to yell at me.
I was always a little fascinated by that because he had red hair and green eyes that got
blood shot when he was super mad so it looked like his entire head was catching on
I would stare at him , you know waiting for him to spontaneously combust, and he
” wipe that look off of your face little girl ”
and I would try to not laugh because by the time I was 12 I was five foot five and taller
than him by an inch or two plus the thought of people going catching on fire for no
reason was comical to me. Probably too comical.
So now when I think of the color red it makes me laugh- which has created many an awkward situation when I see blood.
On the other hand when my Dad wasn’t angry with me, just overwhelmed by the
human wreckage created by half of his DNA his face would turn purple and words
would fail him and he would just stand there, turning purple and trying to burn holes
into my face with this glare that was supposed to turn me into a puddle of cowering, spineless, goo.
It never worked.
Do you know what green eyes in a face purple with rage looks like to me?
A grape with rabies.
So rage at me, be disgusted try to intimidate me
I don’t mind- take your time and give it your best shot.
I want to see if you’re going to burst into flames or turn into a rabid grape.
It’s one or the other, it always is and I am always amused.