Really? Do you have to be drunk to talk to me??

The phone rang this afternoon, well actually it was earlier this evening...

It was my father... at first I wasn't going to answer it because I pretty much had washed my hands of him... but there was a nagging in my brain so I answered it...

Since my 'ranting' message to him months ago I haven't had any contact with him... that is until I was on my way home the other day and got a message from the aunt, that was picking me up from the airport, apparently she had a parcel for me from my father...

So I get back to her place to find out that my father had left (apparently he visited this way while I was away) 4 paddles that he had made... no not sex aides...actual canoe paddles... he makes them as a hobby...

All I could think when I saw them that they were guilt gifts because of my tirade about his lacking of communication and stuff with me and the kids...

So earlier today I sent him a quick message politely thanking him for the paddles and that they were lovely and letting him know that my aunt still had the blanket they were wrapped in...

Which brings us to the phone ringing... I answered it not exactly wanting to... we spoke for a couple of hours about all sorts of stuff... but then I realized that he during our phone call must have been drinking...

It's no wonder I can polish off half a bottle of tequila and feel hardly any of the effects of it at all... I apparently come from alcoholic stock... *sighs* By the time we finished talking he was slurring so badly I could barely understand him...

Maybe when I'm feeling up to it I'll take pics and put them up of the paddles... they are nice...