Worst. Experience. Ever.

When I lived at home and after I hit age 16 or so, my dad had a habit of coming to talk to me about "stuff I need to know", drunk of course.

9/10 times when that happened he just told me about all the shit he did and now regrets and eventually he'd just bawww. I always told him to get the fuck out and shut the fuck up.
All those times are the shittiest nights of my life, as I was also going through all that shitty teenage angst and depression back then.

The WORST night started as usual but eventually I got fucking sick of him and just pushed him out of my room and locking the door. He busted the whole fucking door, tare down my paintings and posters from the wall, he kicked my computer and then hit me.
After the hit he had a fucking smug and assholish satisfied grin on his face. I snapped then and kicked the motherfucking shit out of him (as said he was drunk so it was easy), broke his arm and gave him a couple of nice black eyes.

He stopped doing that shit after that night and a year later I moved to my own place. We're alright now that we don't have to see each other every fucking day.