Kicking Dad Out

This post has nothing to do with cancer. Many of you know that the first house we bought was in Bonner Springs and that my dad lived there with us. When we moved to this house we left him there. Well, times are tough and we're broke so we're going to sell the Bonner house. Hopefully it'll sell in this jacked up market. Have you ever tried to get your unemployed drunkard father out of your house? No? Really? Well let me enlighten you. It isn't easy. He hasn't paid rent since May and I use the term paid loosely. He took a lump sum for his retirement and I kept all the money in an account and doled it out to him and took his rent out of that. That money ran out in May and ever since then I've been telling him he needed to find another place to live because we couldn't afford to pay both mortgages. So here we are in August and I finally made my husband call him and tell him to get out after my "firm" deadline of July 31st has come and gone because he obviously isn't listening to me. I could probably write an entire book about my dad's unique persona but I might vomit if I do. I once made him a t-shirt that sums him up pretty well: Victim of Circumstance. You see, nothing is ever his fault. I'll admit his life hasn't been easy; his mother left him and his seven brothers and sisters when he, the oldest, was thirteen. The good-paying factory job he worked at on and off for 20 years basically poisoned him and has left him chronically ill. However, he's had opportunities too that he's pissed off. If he hadn't been laying around drunk so much maybe he'd have a job by now or more importantly if he'd simply filled out papers timely and made a few phone calls he could probably be on disability right now and not be causing my husband and I great anxiety over when we'll ever get him out of our house. So if any of you kind readers out there would like a 57 year old drunken Jehovah's Witness to take in for a charity along with his three big black dogs give me a call.