In our house, Dad was the king, always immersed in work, and Mum was his maid who ran the household, while we children were almost invisible.
Until the day my brother and I decided to change everything and open Dad’s eyes to the way we lived our lives.
We had no idea how much it would change everything.
Do you ever feel like you don’t exist in your own home?
Like the person who is supposed to be an example to you barely notices you?
This has been my reality for as long as I can remember.
My name is Irina, and this is the story of how my brother Josh and I taught our workaholic father a lesson he in no way expected.
It was an ordinary Tuesday night.
I was sitting at the kitchen table trying to sort out my maths homework while Josh lay on the living room floor engrossed in his comic book.
The clock was approaching six pm and, as usual, that’s when Dad walked through the door.
He looked the same as always – briefcase in hand, tie half undone, and barely glanced in our direction.
‘Hi,’ he muttered in our direction before immediately shouting, ’Mariam! Where’s my dinner?’
Mum came running out of the laundry room, balancing a basket of laundry.
‘I’m just finishing the laundry, Carl. Dinner’s almost ready,’ she said, clearly tired.
Dad muttered something, took off his shoes, and immediately went to the PlayStation.
A second later, the sound of racing cars filled the living room, drowning out everything else.
Not ‘How was your day?’ No ‘How are the kids doing?’ Just him and his game.
Josh caught my gaze from across the room, rolled his eyes, and I nodded in response.
It was our norm, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
‘Ten minutes, Carl!’ shouted Mum again, but he didn’t answer – he was too engrossed in the game.
I went back to my homework and sighed heavily.
This was what life was like in the Thompson household: Dad was the king, Mum was the maid, and Josh and I were ghosts.
The next day it got even worse.
I was setting the table when I heard Dad’s familiar complaint.
‘Mariam, why are these magazines so dusty? Do you even clean this place?’
I looked out from around the corner and saw Dad holding one of his car magazines with an expression on his face as if he had been given the greatest insult.
Mum was standing next to him, looking tired and exhausted.
‘Carl, I’ve been working all day, and-’
‘Worked?’ he interrupted her with a dismissive gesture.
‘I’ve been working too, but at least I expect to come home and see a clean house.’
That was the moment when enough became enough for me.
My blood boiled.
Mum worked as hard as he did, but she also ran the household, cooked all the meals and raised us.
And Dad?
He worked, ate, played video games and went to bed.
And yet he complained.
‘We have to do something,’ I said to Josh in the kitchen that evening.
‘About what?’ he asked, taking a snack.
‘About Dad. He treats Mum like rubbish and acts like we don’t even exist.
It’s time he realised what it’s like to be ignored.’
Josh’s eyes lit up with mischief.
‘I’m in. What’s the plan?’
We quickly drew up our plan, knowing we had to act quickly.
It was time for Dad to get a taste of his own behaviour.
The next day we convinced Mum to have a well-deserved spa day.
She hesitated, but finally agreed.
As six o’clock in the evening approached, Josh and I began to play our parts.
We raided Dad’s wardrobe and put on his shirts and ties.
The clothes were too big for us, but that only added to the effect we wanted to achieve.
‘Ready?’ I asked Josh when I heard the sound of Dad’s car in the driveway.
He nodded and adjusted his tie, which was almost slipping off his neck.
‘Let’s do this.’
We took our seats-Josh on the couch with a magazine, and I stood by the door.
My heart raced as Dad opened the door and walked in.
He froze, eyes wide as he saw his children in their clothes.
‘What’s going on here?’ he asked, clearly puzzled.
‘I need my dinner,’ I said in his usual demanding tone.
Josh didn’t even look up from the magazine.
‘And don’t forget to clean the PlayStation when you’re done.’
Dad blinked, raising his eyebrows.
‘Wait, what are you doing here?’
I waved him off with a motion of my hand.
‘I’m busy. Don’t distract me with questions.’
‘Yeah,’ Josh added.
‘Ask your mum. It’s what you always do, isn’t it?’
Dad stood, completely stunned, while Josh and I continued our game.
I grabbed my PlayStation controller and started playing while Josh nonchalantly flipped through a magazine.
‘Seriously, what kind of show is this?’ Dad’s annoyance was becoming more and more noticeable.
I threw him a sarcastic glance.
‘Oh, sorry, were you talking to me? I’m busy here.’
‘Just like you always are,’ Josh added without looking away from the magazine.
A long pause hung.
You could literally see the realisation slowly dawning on Dad.
His face softened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter.
‘Do you really see me like this?’
I took a deep breath and stopped playing my part.
‘Yes, Dad. That’s exactly how you treat us and Mum.
You’re always too busy for us, and you treat Mum like she’s only here to serve you.’
Josh nodded, his voice calm.
‘She works as hard as you do, but she also runs the whole house.
And all you do is complain.’
Dad’s shoulders slumped and guilt was reflected on his face.
Before he could say anything, Mum walked through the door.
Her eyes widened when she saw us all.
‘What’s going on here?’ she asked, shifting her gaze from us to Dad.
Dad looked at her and there were tears in his eyes.
‘I…I think I’ve been a terrible husband and father.
I’m so sorry.’
Without another word, he headed for the kitchen, and we watched in stunned silence as he began rummaging through the cupboards.
‘Making dinner! Anyone want flatbread?’ he called out, surprising us all.
We sat down at the table, still in shock.
Dad came out of the kitchen with a steaming pot and began to give us our treats, apologising for every spoonful served.
‘I’ve been ignoring all of you, and now I see it,’ he said sincerely.
‘I promise I’ll change.’
As we ate together, Dad started asking us about school, about our day – things he hadn’t done in years.
It was weird, but in a good way.
Josh and I exchanged glances, both of us not believing what was happening.
Maybe it was actually working.
After dinner, Dad smiled at us – a real smile.
‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.
‘For waking me up. I needed it.’
‘We’re just glad you heard us,’ I replied, feeling a warmth in my chest that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Josh smiled.
‘Now, since you’re listening to us, why don’t you play PlayStation with us?’
Dad laughed, a sound I missed.
‘Deal. But first, let’s clean up together.’
As we cleaned up, something seemed to change.
For the first time in years, we weren’t just part of the daily routine.
We were a family again.
It wouldn’t become perfect overnight, but it was a good start.
And it was enough.
