My Dad: A Short Story

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Dad My dad always wakes up at 12 o’ clock at lunchtime so he never eats breakfast. This habit often makes a big trouble, especially when my mom is not home. “Dad, wake up! It’s lunch time!” I shout, punching the bedroom door hard, trying to make the loudest noise I can. He doesn’t say anything but keeps snoring, making the sound of a sleeping pig. I open the door; faint sunlight comes inside through the curtain and lights up the dark room. Dirty clothes are scattered around on every corner of the room, and the pungent smell of cigarettes and alcohol makes me sick. My dad, himself, is lying on the bed with only red underwear on, stretching his arms and legs like a lizard, and mouth opening wide. The quilt has fallen on the floor. He is tall…show more content…
He mumbles and sits up. His hair is messed up like a porcupine, with eyes still closed. He walks slowly to the kitchen and starts to prepare food. While I am waiting on the sofa, I hear the sound of oil blasting and the roaring of exhaust machine in the kitchen. In a few minutes, a smell of familiar homemade dishes fills my nose, making me drool. My stomach is like a growling beast, cannot wait for a delicious prey. After a delicious lunch, my dad goes to his home office and starts to work immediately, even with his messy hair. Although my dad seems very untidy, he looks like a completely different person when he is doing his work. He reminds my mom and me to not disturb him, and then sits on the desk with his laptop and mountains of files in front of him. During the work, he keeps calling and receiving hundreds of phone calls, with another hand grabbing pens, moving rapidly over papers. He is efficient and accurate in his job, just like a machine that never stops running until he is…show more content…
Before he left, he exhorted me to sleep early and reminded me to lock the front door. That night, he was so verbose that it is definitely not common for him. I saw his dark circles were more obvious, and his messed hair was still unorganized after a long day. “Are you staying in the hospital, dad?” I asked before I left the car. “Yes son, I need to take care of your mom. Sleep early before 11, there are some bread in the fridge, you can have a bite if you are hungry. Remember to take a pill before bed, okay? Remember to lock the door, Bye.” He was so verbose, which is not common in front of me. His dark circles looks more obvious, his messed hair is still unorganized after a long day. He drove the car away, and I came back home by myself. Dad looks like an untidy, and lazy person, but he has very serious attitude on his job, and he tries to help my mom or me when we are in

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