Feeling Invisible

Have you ever felt like you’re invisible at home? Like the person who’s supposed to be your role model barely acknowledges you? That’s been my life for as long as I can remember. I’m Irene, and this is the story of how my brother Josh and I taught our workaholic dad a lesson he didn’t see coming.

Growing up in our household, Dad acted like a king, completely absorbed in his work, while Mom was more like a servant, handling everything else. Josh and I, as the kids, felt almost invisible. Until one day, we decided to shake things up and make Dad realize the truth of what was really happening.

A Routine of Ignoring

It was just another regular Tuesday night. I was struggling with my math homework at the kitchen table, while Josh was engrossed in his comic book in the living room. As the clock approached 6 p.m., Dad walked in, right on schedule.

He barely glanced at us, absorbed in his own world. A mumbled “Hey” was the extent of his greeting, before he immediately demanded, “Mariam! Where’s my dinner?”

Mom rushed out of the laundry room, balancing a basket of clothes. She was clearly worn out when she replied, “Just finishing the laundry, Carl. Dinner’s almost done.”

Without a word of thanks, Dad grumbled, kicked off his shoes, and headed straight for the PlayStation. The room was soon filled with the roaring sounds of racing cars, drowning out everything else. No “How was your day?” or “How are the kids?”—just him and his game.

A Plan in Motion

Josh rolled his eyes and exchanged a look with me. We were tired of this routine, but we knew we had to do something about it. “We need to shake things up,” I told Josh in the kitchen that night.

“About Dad?” he asked, intrigued.

“Yes, about Dad. He treats Mom like she’s invisible and ignores us. It’s time he understands how that feels,” I explained.

Josh’s face lit up with excitement. “I’m in. What’s the plan?”

We quickly crafted a plan, knowing we had to act fast to get Dad to experience his own behavior. The next day, we convinced Mom to take a well-deserved spa day, even though she was initially reluctant.

Turning the Tables

By 6 p.m. the following day, Josh and I were ready. We rummaged through Dad’s closet, dressing ourselves in his oversized shirts and ties. The clothes hung off us, adding to the humor of the situation.

“Ready?” I asked as we heard Dad’s car pull into the driveway.

Josh adjusted his way-too-big tie and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

We took our positions—Josh with a magazine on the couch, and me by the door. My heart raced as Dad unlocked the door and stepped in.

He froze, wide-eyed, taking in the sight of us dressed in his clothes. “What’s going on here?” he asked, thoroughly confused.

“I need my dinner,” I mimicked his demanding tone.

Josh didn’t even bother looking up from the magazine. “And don’t forget to clean the PlayStation when you’re done.”

Dad’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “What are you two doing?”

I waved him off. “I’m busy. Don’t bother me with questions.”

“Yeah,” Josh added slyly. “Ask Mom. Isn’t that what you always do?”

Dad stood there, completely stunned, as Josh and I stayed in character. I took charge of the PlayStation controller and started playing, while Josh casually flipped through the magazine.

A Moment of Realization

Dad’s frustration soon started to show. “Seriously, what is this?” he demanded.

I gave him a sarcastic look. “Oh, were you talking to me? I’m kinda busy here.”

“Just like you always are,” Josh chimed in.

A long pause followed. It was clear that Dad was beginning to realize the truth. His face softened, and his voice dropped. “Is this really how you see me?”

With a sigh, I dropped the act. “Yes, Dad. This is exactly how you treat us and Mom. You’re always too busy for us, and you treat Mom like she’s just here to serve you.”

Josh joined in, “She works as hard as you, plus does everything at home. All you do is complain.”

Dad’s shoulders slumped with guilt. Before he could say anything, Mom walked in, her eyes wide at the scene that unfolded before her.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking between Dad and us.

Dad turned to her, tears in his eyes. “I think I’ve been a terrible husband and father. I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, he headed into the kitchen. We watched, stunned, as he started pulling out pots and pans. “Making dinner! Flatbread, anyone?” he called.

We sat at the table in disbelief. Dad served us dinner and apologized with every scoop.

A New Beginning

“I’ve neglected you all, and I see that now,” Dad confessed sincerely. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

As we ate, Dad asked about school and our day—things he hadn’t done in years. It felt strange, but good.

Josh and I exchanged glances, still surprised that our plan had worked.

After dinner, Dad smiled at us—a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he said. “For waking me up. I needed that.”

“We’re just glad you listened,” I said, feeling a warmth in my chest that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Josh grinned mischievously. “And now that you’re paying attention, how about joining us for some PlayStation?”

Dad laughed—a sound I realized I had missed. “Deal. But first, let’s clean up. Together.”

As we cleaned up, it felt like something had shifted. For the first time in years, we weren’t just going through the motions. We were a family again. It wouldn’t be perfect overnight, but it was a start. And that was enough.