Dad

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I opened the bathroom door and my dad was standing there. He had a concerned but pleasant smile on his face. He was in bare feet and wore maroon pajamas with a big pocket on the shirt. I wondered why you would need pockets on a pair of PJ's. His hair was a bit messed up and he was naturally casual compared to when I saw him last wearing a suite. His dark brown eyes sparkled at me in the light escaping from the bathroom.


"How are you feeling, son?" he said.


"Well, I think I am better, dad, but I was really dizzy when I started to get out of bed. I think the shower water has helped wake me up. My head injury looks pretty gross, though. I was careful not to get that wet", I replied.


He walked left down the hallway, and I proceeded to follow him. For some reason I noticed he was a little shorter than me.


"Hey dad, your shorter than me, right?", I said trying to make conversation.


"Oh yeah, Cole. Your a big guy. I am actually not that short. I am about 6 foot and a half inch, but you are 6 foot 2. Your mother and I can't figure out where that came from. Most of the folks in our family are taller than average, but not that tall."


I pondered about that a while. I guess I was not that wacked-out different. My dad was only an inch and a half shorter than me. It seems that with each generation people are getting taller, anyway. He mentioned mom. I wondered where she was.


"So dad, where's mom?" I said


"She went out running. She likes to do that before breakfast and before getting ready for work. I really am not that keen on her doing it because it's still rather dark and I wonder if it is safe for a large number of reasons. She is stubborn though. The sun is just coming up now. She says she likes to experience sun rise on her runs, so she actually changes her running times with the advancing of the seasons so she can see the sun rise. Of course, in the winter she can't really do that because she would then be late for work, but this time of year she just needs to get up early. I think you will see her after a bit", he chuckled. "Certainly you will remember her. You two are pretty close".


I looked around the kitchen and it looked pretty typical. There was a large refrigerator near the sink, which had brushed stainless fixtures. Overhead cabinets looked to be maple wood, stained light in color. There were cheerful, colorful curtains over a window at the sink. The floor was tan colored tile and the kitchen table was black. A pantry area was behind an opened door next to the refrigerator, and there was a dishwasher under that cabinet to the left of the sink.


Dad moved around the kitchen over by the sink and near the refrigerator.


"Cole, do you feel like eating something, now? I think it would be good for you to do that. It might give you more strength", he said after he turned around and looked at me. He showed definite concern.


"Yeah, I think I should". I just stood there, awkwardly not knowing what I should do.


"Cole, why don't you just sit down, and I'll take care of it", he said. "You usually like Cheerios and eggs. Does that sound good for you?


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