Ever felt invisible at home? Like the person you’re supposed to look up to doesn’t even know you exist? I’m Irene, and this is how my brother and I taught our dad a lesson he’d never forget.
It was a typical Tuesday evening. I sat at the kitchen table with math homework, while my younger brother Josh lay on the living room floor, reading a comic. As usual, Dad came home, barely acknowledging us. “Hey,” he said, walking past us.
“Where’s my dinner?” he bellowed.
Mom, looking frazzled, called back, “Coming, Carl. Just finishing the laundry.”
Dad grunted, settled on the couch with his PlayStation, and began playing. The sounds of his game drowned out everything else. I glanced at Josh, who rolled his eyes in silent agreement. This was our norm: Dad as king, Mom as a servant, and Josh and I as invisible.
A man holding a gaming console | Source: Pexels
“I’m sorry, Carl. I’ve been busy with work and—”
Dad cut her off. “I work too. I expect a clean house.”
Mom did everything—work, cooking, cleaning, and caring for us. Dad did little but work, eat, play games, and sleep. My blood boiled.
“That’s it,” I muttered. I told Josh we needed to do something about Dad’s behavior. He agreed, and we hatched a plan.
The next day, we convinced Mom to take a spa day, promising to handle things at home. We raided Dad’s closet for his shirts and ties. As 6 p.m. approached, we took our positions: Josh on the couch with a magazine and me near the door. My heart raced as Dad’s car pulled into the driveway.
When Dad walked in, he was stunned to see us dressed in his clothes.
“What’s going on?” he asked, bewildered.
I mimicked his demanding tone. “I need my dinner.”
Josh added, “And don’t forget to clean the PlayStation.”
Dad was confused. “What are you two doing?”
I dropped the act. “This is how you treat us and Mom. You’re always too busy for us and treat Mom like a servant.”
Dad’s expression shifted from confusion to realization. Just then, Mom walked in, surprised by the scene.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Dad, tears in his eyes, admitted, “I’ve been a terrible husband and father. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how bad it was.”
He walked into the kitchen, and we watched in shock as he began cooking. “Making dinner! Flatbread, anyone? Please, sit down.”
Josh and I exchanged looks before joining Mom at the table. Dad served us dinner, apologizing for his neglect. He asked about our days, listened, and even offered to help me study for a big test.
As we finished, Dad smiled genuinely. “Thank you for showing me how I was acting. I needed that wake-up call.”
I felt warmth in my chest. “We’re just glad you listened, Dad.”
Josh grinned. “And maybe now you’ll join us for games?”
Dad laughed, a hearty sound I’d missed. “Deal. But first, let’s clean up together.”
As we washed dishes and cleaned up, I felt hopeful. It was just one night, but it was a start. For the first time in years, we felt like a family again.
