My dad is coming to visit today. It will be nice because he'll be by himself, with no evil wife tagging along. Not that she would dare come anyway. Our place is too middle-of-the-road for her. "If it's not slums, or 5 star, I don't stay there." I digress.
He'll be here in 8 hours. I am glad the play-off's start tonight and we'll have something to watch, to do, to keep us pre-occupied. Otherwise, I don't know how I will entertain him. We're not really ''talkers". I mean we have conversations about the daily happenings, but it never gets deep. It's kind of awkward at the beginning - like we are learning who the other person is all over again. And both know that the other is covering up the depression inside of them. Trying to be brave. Trying to be tough. Trying to be independent.
I know for me it's not working. I can tell in his voice over the phone it's not working for him.
We're both so fragile. Funny how our pride gets in our way.
I am my father's daughter.
In other news, that is all.
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