That sour thing

Not a very good one today. Okay, I could say it was a good one and then landed up being super-lousy, thanks to the person who I’ve dedicated the previous entry to. One of life's little ironies, I suppose.
So, I got up on time.Went for a walk on time. Had breakfast (yes,on time). Dusted, cleaned, helped in the kitchen. And then started to write another entry on the PC. Enter Dad. He sees me watching this video on YouTube, clean one, at that, and claims I’ve been watching movies since the past week. Excuse me? I saw ‘The Lion King’ after 6 months, mind you, and the last movie I saw was ‘U, Me aur Hum’ last Monday (okay, okay. That doesn’t qualify for a movie, or watching, but tell that to my dad). So he thinks I’ve been watching movies and starts asking me to stop using this PC for all useless sakes, and stuff, so that he can check the stocks, and offers me his laptop. Why on earth should I budge? You got a laptop? You use the laptop. So he starts about how I waste his money and how I should learn to pay my own bills.
Now, THAT pisses me off major. Someone tell him he’s supposed to fend for all my needs, till I start earning. Because, yes, he’s the DAD. I’m the daughter. The point being, you don’t ask someone who you’ve created and will be dependant on you till she comes of age to start paying her bills. That’s because you are supposed to, like it or not.
And when I yell at him, he’s obnoxious enough to grin. That’s it. That man’s losing it. I get wild, and slam the door on his face, and still haven’t spoken to him. After about half an hour of anger finding a vent through heated tears and cuss-words, I finally reduce crying, the door’s locked, and I get an idea. I have to start the A.C. Now, you don’t have a choice but to relent to my demands. And then mum comes in. I expect to be yelled at for the tantrum. Instead she calmly goes like, “See you are behaving just the way I used to. Be a little tactful. Do what you usually tell me to do.” I stared with my mouth wide open. There was my mum, my saviour!
So, I walk out of the room. Get a Harry Potter, and my cell phone. And calmly listen and read. Dad enters and leaves the room several times, and I’m sitting with the A.C. on and a book in hand with music in the background. Impertinent? So be it.
After my mum hinted that I should do just what I like, there was this brand new confidence in me. And I won’t pretend it didn’t make me happy. After that, I got up, had a glassful of cold coffee, called my friend over, and am still on the PC, without letting my father talk to me.
This won’t end soon. I won’t let it. He shouldn’t have yelled in the first place, or laughed later. There’s this thing I’ve got called pride, and I won’t let anyone, let alone my father, hurt it. You can laugh at my face when I’m mad, but that wouldn't mean I’d let you.