A long, long time ago in a country far away...
Joey McCrazy was sitting watching TV. He had his laptop in his lap (one that he supposedly used to research churches for, but y'know what he REALLY used it for). On the table beside him was his trusty remote control for the TV and his Sprite. He had a stupid grin on his face, a twisted, vile-looking grin that sent shivers down one's spine.
His little children had grown up into annoying teenagers, his own body was changing faster than the teenagers' though. His legs became useless, his mind a slush of disjointed worms. The only part of his body that could be used for anything was his vocal cord, which he strained day and night from yelling all of the time.
He often shouted at the most stupid things, though mostly he shouted commands at his children, yelling at them to help him with simple tasks he could easily have done.
"ZEKE!" he would shout annoyingly, though his son was only a couple of feet away, surfing the web. "ZEKE! I NEED YOU TO HAND ME THE REMOTE!"
His son looked at him, and furrowed his brow.
"You mean the remote that's right on the table that's easily within your grasp?" he asked in a meloncholy voice.
"YEAH! THAT ONE! GET ME THE REMOTE, NOW! I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO SEND YOU INTO FOSTER CARE. JUST DO WHAT I SAY!"
Zeke fought back tears and handed the stupid remote to the crazy guy. Then he turned an ran into his room, only stopping long enough to log himself out of facebook.
Joey McCrazy looked, slightly startled. He hadn't expected anyone to show emotion around him. But, he saw the commercials were over and his favorite TV show was on, so he ignored it.
"Stupid kid," he muttered to himself, "I'll have to remember to yell at him later."
The next couple of hours were extremely awkward for Zeke. He sat in his room, wishing that he had Allen's dad.
Allen's dad was the best dad on Earth. The worst thing he's ever done is swore one time when he leg was ripped off. He regretted what he said immediately, was chastised by the priests, and hail-maried a few times. This was his only sin, the only reason he needed God.
Zeke sat and waited in his room for a while until he heard an annoying voice from downstairs.
"ZEKE! I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN YOU'RE ALONE TOO MUCH. I DON'T TRUST YOU BY YOURSELF. COME DOWN HERE, NOW!"
Zeke slowly walked downstairs, fighing tears. Joey McCrazy was still sitting there, but that's not really that suprising (the only time he ever got up was to punch a kitten, kill some Jewish people, or go to the bathroom. He never ate. His nourishment was hatred.)
Zeke suddenly had a brilliant idea.
He suddenly pulled out a Pokeball and captured his father. Joey McCrazy was caught and never let out of the Pokeball.
Is this realistic? No. It was the only simple solution to this problem I could think of. Too bad there are no happy endings to s*** like this.
The best plan is to just endure it. Yes, most of the time your parents are wrong. That doesn't mean that you're right though. Try not to hold any long-term grudges. Just forget about them after you're gone.
To hate someone is to give them a little victory. They will always be in your memory and in this way they will live forever to haunt you. Don't let them survive (poetically speaking).
Often situations are blown out of proportion. You can always find someone better off than you, but you can always find someone worse off too.
Try to endure what you can, ignore what you can't.