At home, Dad was the boss—a workaholic who ruled the house—while Mom was stuck playing the role of his personal assistant. Josh and I? We were almost invisible. That was our life, until the day we decided to shake things up with a daring plan, not knowing it would change everything.
Have you ever felt unseen in your own home? Like the person you’re supposed to admire doesn’t even notice you? That’s been my reality for as long as I can remember. My name’s Irene, and this is how my brother and I finally made Dad see what he’d been missing.
It was a normal Tuesday evening. I was at the kitchen table, tackling math homework, while Josh lay on the living room floor, lost in a comic book. The clock ticked steadily toward 6 p.m.
Just as expected, the front door swung open. Dad came in, briefcase in hand, tie loosened, barely glancing at us as he muttered, “Hey.”
I looked up, hoping for something—a smile, a “How was your day?”—but there was nothing.
Instead, he shouted, “Mariam! Where’s my dinner?”
Mom appeared, tired and frazzled. “Coming, Carl. Just finishing the laundry.”
Dad grunted, kicking off his shoes. “Hurry up. I’m starving.”
Without another word, he headed straight for the PlayStation, collapsing on the couch, the sounds of his racing game filling the room.
Josh caught my eye and rolled his eyes; I silently agreed. This was how things always were—but it still hurt.
Mom hurried by, arms full of laundry. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Carl.”
No reply. Just the screeching of virtual tires and Dad’s occasional curses.
I sighed and went back to my homework. Another evening in the Thompson household, where Dad was king, Mom his servant, and Josh and I? Just part of the furniture.
“Earth to Irene,” Josh’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “You gonna help with my English homework or what?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, just finishing this problem.”
As I leaned over my book, I wondered: how much longer could this go on?
The next night, things came to a head. While setting the table, I heard Dad shout from the living room.
“Mariam! Why are these magazines so dusty? Don’t you ever clean?”
Peeking around the corner, I saw Dad holding up one of his car magazines, scowling. Mom looked exhausted and defeated.
“I’m sorry, Carl. I’ve been so busy with work—”
“Busy?” Dad scoffed. “I work too, you know. But I expect a clean house when I get home. Is that too much to ask?”
My blood boiled. Mom worked just as hard, if not harder, balancing a full-time job and everything else at home. Meanwhile, Dad worked, ate, played video games, and slept. Repeat.
“That’s it,” I muttered and stormed into the kitchen where Josh was grabbing a snack.
“We have to do something,” I said quietly.
Josh raised an eyebrow. “About what?”
“Dad. This can’t keep going. He treats Mom like dirt and ignores us. We need to make him feel what we’ve felt.”
A slow grin spread across Josh’s face. “I’m in.”
We whispered furiously, plotting to give Dad a taste of his own medicine.
“You really think this will work?” Josh asked as we finalized the plan.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but we have to try. For Mom’s sake.”
Josh nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
As we parted, excitement and nerves churned inside me. Would it work? Or make things worse?
The next day, we convinced Mom to take a spa day, promising to handle things at home. She hesitated but agreed, clearly needing a break.
As 6 p.m. neared, Josh and I got ready. We raided Dad’s closet, pulling out two of his shirts and ties. The clothes hung loosely on us, but that was the point.
“Ready?” I asked as Dad’s car pulled into the driveway.
He nodded, adjusting his oversized tie. “Let’s do this.”
Josh took the couch with a magazine; I stood near the door. My heart pounded as we heard Dad’s key in the lock.
The door opened, and Dad froze, staring at us in his clothes.
“What’s going on? Why are you wearing my shirts?”
I fixed him with a serious look. “I need my dinner,” I said, copying his usual demanding tone.
Josh didn’t look up from his magazine. “And don’t forget to clean the PlayStation after.”
Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you two doing?”
I waved him off. “I’m busy. Don’t bother me.”
Josh added, “Go ask Mom. Isn’t that what you always do?”
Dad stood stunned as we kept up the act. I grabbed the controller and started playing; Josh flipped pages with exaggerated boredom.
“Seriously, what is this?” Dad asked, frustrated and confused.
I looked up, dripping with sarcasm. “Sorry, were you talking to me? I’m kind of busy here.”
“Just like you always are,” Josh added.
A heavy silence fell. I saw Dad’s confusion shift to realization.
His voice softened. “Is this… how you see me?”
The moment had come. I took a deep breath and dropped the act.
“Yes, Dad. This is exactly how you’ve treated us and Mom. You’re always too busy and treat Mom like she’s just here to serve you.”
Josh joined in, steady despite his emotion. “She works as hard as you do and takes care of everything. All you do is complain and demand.”
Dad’s shoulders sagged. Before he could reply, Mom walked in, looking relaxed—like I hadn’t seen in years.
“What’s going on?” she asked, glancing between us and Dad.
Dad looked at her with tears in his eyes. “I… I’ve been a terrible husband and father. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how bad it was.”
Without another word, he went into the kitchen and started pulling out pots and pans.
“Carl?” Mom asked, confused.
“Making dinner! Flatbread, anyone? Sit down, all of you.”
Josh and I exchanged surprised looks and joined Mom at the table. We sat in silence as the smells of cooking filled the air.
Dad emerged with a steaming pot, serving us all.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve neglected you all. I’ll do better, I promise.”
As we ate, Dad actually asked about our day and listened. It felt… different. Strange, but good.
“So,” Dad said, clearing his throat, “how’s school going?”
Josh and I exchanged looks, unsure if it was real.
“It’s fine,” I said cautiously. “I have a big history test next week.”
Dad nodded, interested. “Maybe I could help you study?”
Surprised, I smiled. “Yeah, that’d be great.”
After dinner, Dad smiled genuinely. “Thank you for showing me how I’ve been acting. I needed that.”
A warm feeling spread inside me. “We’re glad you listened, Dad.”
Josh grinned. “Maybe now you’ll join us for games?”
Dad laughed—a real laugh I’d missed. “Deal. But first, let’s clean up together.”
As we cleared the table and washed dishes, I felt hopeful. It was just one night, and I knew it wouldn’t fix everything overnight. But it was a start. For the first time in years, we felt like a family again.
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