I need to know if I’m going nuts, because I’ve been told I overreacted, whereas I think I was actually pretty restrained!
My dad is the kind of person who won’t say something once when five times will do. Like if you go for the weekend and he’s heard a new joke, for example, he can’t just tell you it - he’ll have to find a way to throw the punchline into several other conversations over the weekend. It’s usually a mild irritant, but sometimes he does it when he’s moaning about something; in which case it just starts to feel a bit relentless.
Anyway, I was visiting this weekend and had noticed an Indian restaurant we all like has started doing a Sunday buffet. I suggested I treat us on the Sunday to save my mum cooking. Everyone was happy to go.
It ran from 12 - 4, so we decided to go at 3, as we all like a late breakfast and late lunch on Sundays. However, it turned out this was a mistake, as it seemed like it was already winding down. Empty trays were being taken away and not replaced; there were no vegetable side dishes, only a new broken poppadoms left etc.. A bit disappointing, but no big deal - we could either go earlier next time or just not go again, right?
My dad would not let it go, ALL through the meal. Everything was a complaint. “No side dishes? It’s supposed to be a buffet!” (I’m vegetarian, so the absence of vegetable side dishes should have been an issue for me if anything - for him, the vegetable main could be a side dish.) He asked were they bringing out more poppadoms; when they said they’d finished them for the day, he looked like a child whose favourite toy had been confiscated. He kept saying, “No more poppadoms? No sides? There wasn’t even any sauces or mango chutney!”
My mum and I were both getting fed up now; she’d told him to leave it and that we just wouldn’t come again. He was still muttering and I said, “Look, I know you’re not happy, but I thought I was doing something nice, and there’s nothing we can do, so let’s just talk about something else.” He said, “Well what do you want me to do? I can’t pretend I’m enjoying it.” By this point I’m properly grinding my teeth and say, “You don’t have to pretend - just stop going over it.”
My mum and I tried to ignore him and carry on with our conversation. He starts AGAIN, saying in this sort of bewildered tone, “The poppadoms, the sides, the extras… that’s what makes an Indian! There was hardly anything! No mango chutney!”
Well, something about that sodding chutney made me snap. I got up and said, “Right, that’s it. I can either go to Sainsbury’s and BUY some mango bloody chutney, and you can have the whole jar, or we can just finish our meal in peace!!”
I’m sure you can imagine how this went down. On one hand, it had the desired effect - he did actually stop moaning. But now he’s barely talking to me at all, and my mum is doing her usual thing of making it about my reaction instead of the cause of it. I’m sick of it. Why am I being made to feel like I pushed him to “pretend” he’d enjoyed a meal, just because I didn’t want the entire event to be one endless running commentary about how awful it had all been? Most people would just say thank you, but not him.
I’m not even expecting an apology, because I know I won’t get one. But I’m certainly not giving one. And I feel like yet again, it will just end up as “let’s forget it” with nothing changing.