09/06/2026
THE RAINCOAT - EXTRA SPICY EDITION_ 🌧️
My dad and I have 1 rule: We don’t do soft.
He thinks “I love you” is a scam. I think asking for help is weakness.
So when my night class ended at 9pm and heaven decided to open, I had 2 choices: Call him, or drown with dignity.
I chose drown.
2 hours later, I’m standing under a canopy that leaks more than it covers. My phone is at 2%. My pride is at 0%. My Uber app is just laughing at me: “No drivers nearby.”
Then I hear it. That engine. The one that sounds like a tractor having an asthma attack.
His Toyota. The car he swears he can’t afford to fuel.
He parks. Gets out. No umbrella. No “are you okay.” Just pure irritation.
He’s holding my old pink raincoat. The one I “lost” 3 years ago after he told me it was ugly. The zipper is still broken. Of course.
He throws it at my chest. “Catch. Before you die and I have to explain to your mom how stupid you are.”
I catch it. Rain is in my eyes. Pride is in my throat.
“Why are you here? You said I waste fuel.”
He gets in my face. Water dripping from his cap onto my shoes.
“Because wasting fuel is cheaper than burying you, you mshikaji! Is that what you want? To be a headline: ‘Student dies proving point to father’?”
We stare at each other. Both soaked. Both stubborn. Both idiots.
Finally I whisper: “I didn’t call because I knew you’d say ‘I told you so’ all the way home.”
He laughs. That bitter laugh he does when he’s hurt but won’t admit it.
“You’re right. I was going to. For 45 minutes straight. ‘I told you so’ playlist, volume 100.”
He turns, opens the car door. Then stops.
“Get in. But know this: I was here 30 minutes ago. Left. Came back. Left again. Came back again. Because your mom said ‘If you don’t go, I’m leaving you.’ So technically… I’m here because I’m scared of your mother, not because I love you.”
Liar.
We drive home in silence. Heater blasting. Windows fogged. Both pretending we’re not glad the other one showed up.
Then he breaks it: “Next Tuesday. Same time. Don’t make me play hide and seek with your pride again. My fuel gauge can’t take the stress.”
I don’t say thank you. He doesn’t say “I was scared.”
But when I get out, he shoves a hot samosa into my hand.
“Don’t tell your mom I bought it. She’ll say I’m spoiling you.”
As I run to the door, I hear him mutter to himself:
“Stupid kid… thinks I don’t notice when her shoes are wet.”
Yeah dad. Stupid kid. But your kid.
And I think… maybe his love language isn’t “I love you.”
Maybe it’s “I’ll fight the rain so you don’t have to.”
Dads, what’s your most “spicy” way of showing care without saying it? Drop it below 👇
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