not going to the amusement park

Another day...another memory.  Dad didn't like doctors.  Dad just didn't like spending the money on them.  Money was a preciously coveted commodity with my dad.  He wanted it all for himself.   Could say more, but that would be off-topic right now.
 Anyway, enough with that.  Consequently, he didn't like taking us, his four children, to the doctor.  But, mom was getting harassed by the school, and told him we simply had to get caught-up on our shots.  And since he hadn't let us go to a doc in a very long time, each of us had many shots to get caught-up on.  
So, off we went, after dad got in 'his' 'shots' for his own special moral support.  We didn't have that chemical support system available to us, though.  We had to simply sit back and accept them driving us to our appointment with terror. 
As the four of us whined and shivered in fear, in the huge back seat of that old Cadillac, dad began to make his promises once again.  Only I noticed that stern glance that mom gave his way, as he proclaimed the fun-time we'd all have at the amusement park, after and only after we marched in that doc's office, like little soldiers and take it like big brave men.
Yeah, he knew just what to bait us with, and that was all the incentive we needed.   We did march in there as brave as could be.  Stood there and took three shots each, as brave soldiers, mostly to please our dad...keep dad on your good side...well...and for the reward of that fun-filled amusement park, which we had passed-by so many times...and because it cost money...never got to swing into that place and enjoy what it had to offer.  But, those shots would all be worth it in the end.  No pun intended.
So, it was about ten miles from that doc's office to that amusement park.  And, as dad had calculated correctly, it only took about ten miles for those horrid shots to kick-in.  Mom knew this of course.  We were so ill and so feverish, aching all over, we all just cried all the more, as dad  passed-up that little amusement park, so he could get us on home because we felt so awful. 
His sneaky laugh was worse than that amusement park disappointment, though.  And mom's continued stern looks at him were enough to show me that, he had planned to dupe us from the start of that little adventure.  It's like that with an alcoholic parent, though.  The kids try to not say anything to set-off that parent on one of his tangents.  They will lie for and to that parent, and make-believe that they are so happy and everything is okay.  So long s dad is okay, it's okay enough for everyone else.  Doesn't matter if it's really okay with you.  Just keep good ol' dad happy and calm.
That's the way to play the game, you see.  Don't rile the alcoholic parent.  Find out what his/her weakness is for blowing-off and blowing-up.    It's not a matter of keeping him 'from' drinking.  That'll never happen. It's a matter of keeping everything quiet and still while they 'are' drinking.   That's the game...avoiding blow-ups...a twisted extreme to winning their approval.  
But then, another issue arises, which is a new and surprising cause for contention.  And the one that brought it on gets yelled at and ridiculed by the others in the house.  And all that one can say is that; "It never caused him to be upset before!---and I just didn't know!"  How could they have known?   It wasn't fair.  He never did 'that' before, when that one had said or did that certain thing before.   Hard to follow along with me on this, I know.  And that's the way it was with an alcoholic parent...very hard to follow...very hard to keep-up on his/her hair-triggers. 
Keeping account of everything that could provoke an alcoholic parent, keeping those hair-triggers in one's mind was exhausting.  No wonder we didn't do so well in elementary school.  Too much to think about.  People say don't burden your mind by bringing work home with you...but children of alcoholic parents bring the burden of home on their minds to school with them.
 So enough for today.  Anyone relating here?...see