My poor daughter, she reminds me so much of her mother.

I remember when I first moved in with her. We were friends. We shared a room and a king size bed and nothing happened between us for months, and then it did.

She was sweet for about two weeks. The first time it happened I remember waking up thinking she was being attacked. “AHHHHHHH!” I sat up in the bed in horror. “WHY WON’T YOU FUCKING LATHER?!!!?” BANG, BANG, BANG

I got up and pecked on the door, “Is everything alright in there?” sobbing “Yes, it’s just this fucking shampoo. It won’t fucking lather. I keep dumping it on my stupid fucking head and it’s barely even soap!”

I sat down just bewildered. Like, seriously? That meltdown occurred because the shampoo wasn’t lathering to her standards? I used it all the time. I’m a man who doesn’t care about those things, I just bought what my mom always bought. I never had a problem with it. Hell, it’s 20 years later and I still buy the stuff.

The next time I woke up to a slam and clattering metal sounds. I walked into the kitchen. “FUCK THIS PAN! FUCK THIS STOVE! I give up, GODDAMMIT!!” She had turned on the wrong burner.

It started happening more often until it was every single morning. I snapped at her one morning. BAM I slapped the bathroom door. “CUT THIS SHIT OUT! I’M SICK OF WAKING UP TO SCREAMING EVERY MORNING!” She sobbed, apologized, stopped for a few days, fired right back up when she was more comfortable.

I started setting my alarm earlier than hers so I could get up and go outside until she cooled off. She never, ever, ever woke up in a good mood.

She’s been dead for 3 years now, but man, my daughter will carry her shit around for a lifetime.

I can control it with her though, calm her down, shut her up, but you gotta be careful haha. NEVER compare her to her mother, even if you’re just trying to be sweet or funny.

My daughter is only about a tenth as bad as her mom was with it, but even that can be exhausting.