My Father Was A Very Caring Man. part of a story

So, anyway when me and the family was on vacation. One afternoon we were all stepping out of the car, as we were ab out to eat at Apple Bee’s. I was sitting in the back seat, in the middle between two of my family members.

The person sitting to the left of me stepped out of the car, and I was the last one to get out of the car. I reached my hand around the door way to help pull myself out of the car, then WHACK! the door slammed and crushed my fingers.

The pain was so intense that I was trembling and rocking back and forth for a few seconds with my eyes closed. I felt the bone crushing pain shoot up my arm and rattle my nerves. I felt my heart stop for a second, and I gasped. Luckily, none of my fingers were broken, but they were bruised.

The vacation was ruined, because for the rest of the trip, my dad kept asking me If I were ok. That is how concerned of a person he was, but he’s dead now.
Stay tuned for more sad stories as I reveal other events of my life, and how he died.
Please respond and leave a comment. I’m not asking for much, but I need a response, otherwise this is pointless.

no comments?
at least tell me if you read it

Perhaps we should talk about your need for responses.

Oh, wait…HAW HAW HAW! That was a real knee-slapper!

Please tell us more!

I didn’t know it was a funny story. This is actually from Real Life, eventhough I wrote “part of a story” on the title.

Tell me about your father, since the day before yesterday was Father’s Day.

I read it.

My dad was a successful, intelligent, kind and generous man. He’s been dead for 10 years, unfortunately.

It is very hard to tell if you are being sarcastic., when you say “The vacation was ruined, because for the rest of the trip, my dad kept asking me If I were ok. That is how concerned of a person he was, but he’s dead now.”

I apologize if this was not your intent, but because there are transitions between seemingly unrelated thoughts (how does your father asking you if your fingers hurt “ruin” a vacation?) there is a sense of sarcasm and the implication that you are happy he is dead.

If a got my fingers slammed in a door, and my father didn’t take me to the doctor, and declared I had ruined the vacation, I would conclude my father was a complete asshole.

I read it.

My father never crushed my hand in a car door. A teacher once closed a car door on my thumb; squished it down to about 1/3 of an inch at the skin-covered beginning of the nail. She did say she was sorry though. The nail turned colors and after a week or so dropped off… but after a month or so the nail grew back. It was 5th grade; stuff happens.

Lots of us have dead fathers, with stories more interesting than yours.

The vacation wasn’t really ruined, I was exaggerating their, but it was not as good as it could’ve been, because he was too conernced about me, and feeling sorry for smashing my finger, that he did not enjoy the vacation, and eveyone focused too much attention on me, to the point where they were bothering me.

My fingers were just bruised, so there was no point in asking me the same question again. Though, I do appreciate his empathy, but he has to let things go.
I have more interesting stories about my life to tell, but I’m not sure when I should tell it.

I didn’t laugh at the OP. However, I am still laughing out loud at this response, and it’s not often I read something that makes me laugh out loud. But. . . I can be easily amused.

Applebees, huh?

That’s asking a lot.
Would it be alright if we responded or left a comment?


Thats when.

Which part of the story was that?


My father was King of Swaziland, but he’s dead now.

I did not read the OP.

I meant to leave a response or a comment but not both because that would be wasteful and the environment is screwed up enough.

From what you’ve said, it sounds like your father turned the injury to you into a hardship upon him. That sounds a little self-centered.

If people don’t respond, his feelings will be crushed.

I hope so - you couldn’t possibly have less interesting stories.

I think you nailed it in one: the story was pointless. I’m sure you have fond memories of your father, however this isn’t a blog site, and your story just doesn’t have the elements of a good yarn.

It’s not WHEN, but WHERE you should tell the stories. For the most part, unless your stories are quite amusing, most random strangers are not going to care. And while this particular story might have a deep meaning to you, I did not find it interesting or amusing. Perhaps you might want to tell it on Facebook, or with another social media site.