quarantine: the rise of daddy issues

My dad is a man of few thoughts, few hobbies, and few words. This, I have always known, of course, but now, after being shipped back from my study abroad program in Italy to my childhood home, his idiosyncrasies are surfacing. He is on my last nerve. A few more things about my dad that are important to note: he has maybe zero emotional intelligence, an inability to laugh at himself, is an extremely picky eater, and has, also, little common sense. Lately I've been looking at him, wondering how we are related at all, really. A few days ago, I got myself up, stretched, showered...the morning was going well. I made myself a simple, yet effective breakfast of bacon and toast with some jam. We sat there, at the kitchen table, in silence, obviously, when suddenly my dad kind of...choked on his coffee? I still don't really know what happened, but ultimately this resulted in him spitting all over my breakfast. Morning ruined. Last week I did the grocery shopping for the household because both my parents are over 60, and we're taking this thing as seriously as possible. After hauling the groceries in, I began unpacking the goods, and wiping things down with some clorox wipes. My dad came teetering downstairs to assist with this project. He takes some fruits and veggies out from one of the bags, and asks me, in all seriousness, if the PEPPERS should be WIPED DOWN WITH CLOROX. I said...."no, dad, we'll just run those under some water as per usual..." In my head I was like, 'oh wait, not like you would know that because you don't eat fruits and veggies anyway'. Imagine crunching into an apple that has just been doused in clorox... Now for the finisher here. My dad is the only one who actually has nothing to do in the house right now. My mom is working from home, and I'm doing my online classes, and yet, would you believe it, my mom and I are the ones who cook and clean up the kitchen after dinner. Hm...interesting, no? So my mom and I proposed that we make up a schedule for these tasks. Needless to say, my dad cooked dinner for the first time in ages the other night, a frown plastered across his face the whole time. Now I can look forward to pizza and burgers every Sunday and Friday night. I called a couple of my pals to tell them all of whats been transpiring in my house, and they lamented that their dads have been on the fritz as well. We agreed that when this is all over we're making a film called Quarantine: The Rise of Daddy Issues.