Which means I basically had to throw out all of my plans and do it in his asinine and rather inefficient method.

This means that my beds are not staked into the ground, nor are they even the original shape I had planned them to be. Infact... it's just the one bed.

See, he had originally led me to believe I could do this my way... which really should have been clue number one that something was up. Once he realized I was actually serious about it he started becoming ... or reverting, into his normal behavior.

My father, you see, is a man-child with oppositional defiance disorder. You say up, he says down. He decided he wants to grow blueberries, and you say, plant them under the pine, they need a soil PH of 4.5-5.0" He plants them where he forbid you from digging when you originally planned your garden.

It's cool though, because I'm totally jaded enough to work for the most unbearable people now. It'd be a cakewalk. You could say that I'm tempered for it.

My situation has gifted me patience needed to stay my strangling hand. Though it thirsts... It thirsts...

For a strangulation.