My dad is coming in to town.
I'd like to think that the reason for this rather unexpected visit is because he misses me terribly, and he can't wait telling me in person how proud he is of this middle daughter of his, despite my lack of accomplishment in the past twenty-two years. Well, not really, I think I was quite pride-worthy during my earlier ages, when I haven't been smeared too much by life's negativity and a slash of reality check (and the introduction of television). Still, the dad-kid proud thing, that's normally a given, right? Even when I feel like a failure, surely he's still obligated to pat me in the back and say, 'I'm proud of you, kiddo', right?
Anyway, the big man feels the need to come all the way down here, just because well, it's because of me, but not because he's tearing up in gratitude for my blissful and buoyant existence. Quite the opposite, I have a feeling he comes here to...console me.
Yeah. Ladies and gentlemen. The biggest loser right here. Woo. Where's my crown and tiara?
My dad isn't the most sensitive father, or person, in that matter. But I feel that he's been very supportive over the past few months, especially. And I will not let his kind gesture unreturned. I'm sure I can think of many ways to show him my gratitude, which will come to me...any minute now.
Can I get back to you on that? Let me sleep on that.