Proof That Dad Hates Me

the other day, the unluckiest thing that's ever happened to anyone sent me into a pretty severe panic spiral:



yes, that's right, i had a voicemail from my grandmother. which could only mean one thing: someone gave her my phone number. you may think i'm a horrible person for avoiding my own grandma, but you'll just have to trust me on this one. she says things like:

so, yeah, i didn't want my self-esteem to drop any further for the time being. i was so upset, i had to sniff out the source of my unhappiness. at first, i accused my sister:

but she seemed so confused that i decided she must be innocent. and--to be fair--my sister has spent many years of her life talking to grandma just so that i don't have to. it's seriously the most selfless sacrifice i have ever heard of.

next, i blamed my father:

and do you know what he said? this:

he was totally scammed by his own mother! i had managed to keep my phone number from her from years, but suddenly--thanks to dad--all of that hard work was down the drain. even worse, she sounded SO HAPPY on her message that i had to call her back. i braced myself and picked up the phone. i dialed her number...

and she didn't answer! i get the credit of calling without having to talk to her! yeah!