Okay, so I (18M) live in Arizona and have been obsessed with motorcycles since I was like 12. I spent years watching videos, reading forums, and dreaming about owning my own bike. My family isn’t rich by any stretch, my dad’s a mechanic, my mom works retail, and we’ve always scraped by. So, when I turned 16, I started working at a hardware store and saving literally everything. No parties, no fast food, no new clothes. Two years of sacrifice and I finally bought my dream: a used but beautiful matte black Yamaha R3. It wasn't brand new, but it was mine.

I babied that thing. I washed it every weekend, stored it in the garage with a cover, even named it: Echo. I wouldn’t let my friends touch it, let alone ride it. Everyone knew that was the one thing I was super protective over.

Last week, I went on a short trip to visit my cousin in Flagstaff. I was gone for two days. When I came back, I noticed the garage door open and Echo was missing. I freaked out, thinking someone had stolen it. I ran inside ready to call the cops and then I see my dad, limping slightly, sitting on the couch looking guilty as hell.

Turns out, my dad decided to take my bike out for “a quick spin” to show off to some guy at the shop. He didn’t ask. He didn’t tell me. He just took the keys from my drawer and went for it.

He dropped the bike.

Laid it down at a light trying to turn too fast. Scratched the fairings, bent the clutch lever, messed up the right side mirror. Nothing unfixable, but it was no longer the perfect bike I’d worked two years for. My heart broke when I saw it.

I lost it. I yelled at him in front of everyone. I told him he had no right to touch my stuff, that he disrespected me, and that he could never touch Echo again. I even said, “You're always preaching about earning your stuff and respecting property, and then you go and pull this?” He looked shocked, like I was the one overreacting. My mom tried to calm me down, but I wasn’t having it.

Now he won’t speak to me, and my uncle (who was there when he crashed) says I’m being a dramatic little jerk and that “it's just a bike.” My mom thinks I should apologize because I “humiliated” him and made him feel like crap. But I feel violated.

So, AITAH for telling him he’s never touching my bike again and not apologizing?