Going into 3rd grade was pretty exciting for me. New, better teacher and a new start all together. 3rd grade was also the year where some things got pretty shitty around the house. My dad lost his job, my mom hated hers, and that was also around the time of the recession. That was also the year that I found out my dad smoked. He always preached to us to never lie, to never hide things, when he had been hiding this from us for our whole lives. I know, it's super fucking hard to quit smoking. And I'm really glad he stopped. That was probably one of the best things he had ever done for our family, and himself. My parents (especially my dad) had always been extremely strict about grades. I have had one B in my entire life. And honestly, I'm not very smart. And I frickin suck at math. His whole philosophy is that, if it's not an A, it's an F. Kind of the stereotypical Asian parent. We aren't Asian. And I know why he says that. He was in foster care for,most of his life, his mom never payed attention to him, and his dad died when he was six. He wants to give my sister and I the opportunities he never had. I appreciate that. I really do. But sometimes giving us opportunities takes away a lot more.
