I *heart* Daddy

So, Poppy has come for a visit. It's very exciting. Well, not really. But it's fun and it makes me happy.

He was in Indiana for the Grand Prix last weekend (yeah, Daddy went to a race on my Birthday) and decided to swing by New York for a couple days on his way back to Guam, via Hawai'i. The life of a pilot. I kinda want it. So he got here last night. Arrived at Port Authority right about 5:45PM. Not really the best time to be at Port Authority. Oh how I hate the crowds in Manhattan at rush hour. Especially down around 42nd street. I realize I can never live in Jersey now. I hate the PATH and the idea of having to commute through The Port every day makes me break out in hives. I don't think Dad's any more fond of the crowds either. This is the man who stated the whole year and a half he lived here that it was a good thing he didn't own a gun and then would mumble about Bernie Goetz. I think it's just the sheer concentration of people in a small space that leads to the sheer concentration of too many stupid people in a small space. Makes him crazy.

Anyway, we battled through the crowds along 42nd street with his luggage and the rush hour hoards on the F train to make it safely back to my very hot & humid apartment. Because this is apparently the year we're having August in June or something. It's just been too miserable and muggy this month. I lucked into nice weather for the BBQ last weekend. We rested for a bit and let Mom know we made it home. Then off to forage for dinner.

We ended up doing the wine and bread and cheese (and olives and potato salad and hummus and triskets) thing out back. We had a brief bit of sprinkly rain, but it stopped and we were able to eat our stilton & havarti in peace. Then I was forced inside to clean the catbox while Dad enjoyed a post-dinner cigar. Dad has a bit of a phobia about the catbox. Don't know why, but he can't handle it having much in the way of poo in it. I'm starting to suspect that some of my aversion to poo comes from this. I should get a therapist and bring this up. Maybe. Or not.

After that was a lovely walk around the block while we pondered another dinner option for tonight, in case we couldn't get reservations at Grocery. We did get them for 9:30 so that's fine. You don't have to worry. I suspect it'll be drinks at Zombie Hut and then dinner at Grocery. Date night with my Dad. Without the movie.

Then it was just putzing around the apartment. I tidied a little and showered while Dad cleared a backload of email (five days worth!). Good times. I like just hanging with him. We watched the season premier of Monk on TiVo and the scenes of Monk trapped on the subway car kinda made me giggle and think of Dad just a few hours earlier. But I must make clear that Dad did NOT cry on the train. It was also nice to see that they were ACTUALLY on a train to Brooklyn and then in a station in Brooklyn when they were supposed to be in Brooklyn. Though I'm still confused as to how getting stuck back on a Brooklyn bound A train landed Monk in the middle of Times Square.

I felt kinda weird yesterday at work being all excited about my Dad visiting. Lovey lost hers a few years ago and I'd find myself about to say something flip. Then I'd rethink it at the last minute. It just seemed so inappropriate to joke whine about my Pops coming to visit when hers never will. You know? I know she wouldn't think I was trying to be mean or insensitive or anything, but I'd hate making her miss her Dad or anything. I'm just so lucky to have two loving, involved parents who are still alive and frequently visit. That I can just hang around my apartment watching TV and making bad jokes with my Dad. Which is an awesome thing to do.