Last week, my dad called someone to fix our TV because it had a fault. Nothing major, but it was just not nice watching TV with that fault. The guy carried it on Monday and said he would bring it back on Tuesday. Days passed. My dad kept calling and calling, and they were giving all sorts of excuses. Friday came, and the guy brought back the TV. We plugged it in, and lo and behold, the screen was broken. As in, ink was showing. This guy had the guts to say that he didn’t know it was damaged, that it happened on his way. My dad is so pained. He said, “I am pained.” We asked the guy to pay, and he said he doesn’t have money. My dad even said he would bring half of the money.
Honestly, my dad hurting really hurt me as well. He hasn’t even spoken much since then. My dad is pushing 70, and I have been so terrified of something happening to him, which is why I’ve always checked on him. Since this incident, I’ve been checking on him more and more. I’m so proud of myself for controlling my anger for that guy because I was so mad. In this economy where everyone is barely scraping by. I told him not to worry too much, but I’m still worried about him.
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