the wrong side of the bed

i complain about my dad an awful lot. remember the post where i say that i had always wished he was gay and closeted so that it would explain his generally jerky attitude? or the one in which i call my dad an ass for making my family listen to the sex scene in an audio book while driving them to dinner? or how about when i lament my pop's lack of phone skills? or when i wish my dad were out of town so i wouldn't have to talk to him? yeah. i complain a lot about my dad. truth be told, my dad is a pretty good one. both my parent's are. you really couldn't ask for better.* i just bitch a lot. it is part of my schtick.

anyway, my dad did something really sweet. yesterday i got a card from him in the mail. usually he sends me cards for major holidays, but this he sent because i have been having so many panic attacks lately. the card is one he got for free for donating to habitat for humanity. on the front is a cartoon dog carrying books and an apple on his/her head. it reads, "Anything I can do to help?" and on the inside, "Just holler and I'll be there!" and my dad wrote, "Hi Dorotha. Let us know if you need anything. I saw this book review and it looked like it would fit into your studies. Love Mom & Dad." i know it was just from my dad because it is his handwriting and because i asked my mom about it and she didn't know he sent it. the book review he included (one he already made me read the last time i went home) is on Evolution's Rainbow: Diversity, Gender, and Sexuality in Nature and People by joan roughgarden, and it does not really fit into my studies, but since my dad reads only science magazines (he's a chemist) this is about as close as he is gonna get. it is the sweetest card my dad has ever sent me. i've been showing it to everyone all day long. the funny thing is, because my dad is usually not so warm and fuzzy, i don't even know how to thank him for the note. i guess i will just have to be brave and come out and say it.

dad, if you are reading this blog, thanks.

* okay, the only thing i would change about how my parent's treated me as a kid is that i wished they hadn't called me Rain Man. it was scarring.

This is your second warning: you are about to lose your reputation as a meanie.

You know it doesn't count if you just do it via the blog, right?

And leave her alone, Nina. Even meanies get days off.

Having not have contact with my own private Bio-Dad for 18 years (and counting), I can tell you, you're lucky to be loved at any point in life.