And I'm mad at him for being an idiot. For being inconsiderate, and in my fucking way.
He's like the Todd Howard of Dads. Just swoops in to shit on projects he doesn't comprehend, because his ideas are bad and wrong and come from a bad and wrong perspective.
I have worked all summer to make this garden thrive, and admittedly, one corner of the garden is suffering from deficiencies. It's a location thing, there's a forest of weeds abutting that corner that he wouldn't deal with all summer. And I know it's this corner, and these plants with these specific problems, because the frailty in the plants follows a distinct and localized pattern. A pattern I have actively worked to correct the past few days, as the problem became clearer. It's not done. It's not too far gone, and it's not ready to harvest. But that's the hammer he decided on, so today, despite being absolutely wrong, we harvested three plants that aren't ready, just so he'd shut the fuck up about the problem he has no insight into, because he has no method, and refuses to hear me out. Because I could not possibly be right about anything once he's decided on what the truth must be, and selected the wrong tool for the job.
The truth, incidentally, is just that all the plants must be ready to harvest, and we have to do it now, because it's "cold at night" and it's going to kill all the plants. Cold being 61° or higher. I know this because I go outside every night and check. He does not know this, because he's not actually paying attention. He just bursts into the project once a month to make outrageous decisions and demands on my time and effort.
And can I just, please, for one last paragraph, explain how stupid my idiot Dad is, dear reader? We harvested three plants, against my judgment, just so he'd shut up. And I told him "Make sure you mark them, so I can tell which is which." This is important for later steps, to know which plant is which, you see. Steps that will be undertaken in over a month's time. He says "I KNOW WHICH IS WHICH, THERE'S ONLY THREE." Friends, there are 21 plants in total, of 7 different varieties, and they're all going to be harvested well before these 3 are processed. He will not remember any of them. He won't even remember what type of plant they were by next week. And besides that, he won't even be here when it's time to process any of them, he'll be on vacation at my sister's place in Georgia. I ask him to mark them for my future benefit, and he says it's not necessary, because he can't think far enough ahead, or far enough outside his ego, to realize that this request is not being made for His (emphasis) Immediate benefit. So he can't see any reason to do it. So I did it. Like I end up doing everything that goes right. He also didn't close the fucking barn door. So I did. And I closed it on my fingers, because every time my Dad invades a project that nobody needed his input on, he makes one of his children so angry that they hurt themselves in frustration. Just like the time he threw a fit about having a section of fence repaired because it wasn't his idea, so my sister stepped on a metal fence post and it went through her damn foot.
I hate my Dad, and I hate that he makes not hating him so fucking difficult to do. Did I mention that I spent all winter/spring taking care of things he couldn't do because of a brain hemorrhage he didn't want to take seriously until it was nearly fatal? Like, every day I grow less empathetic towards him, and I just want him to fucking go. Just fucking die next time. It'll be better for everyone.