Dad typically buys his and mom’s groceries on Wednesday night. I told him my sweet tooth was acting up lately during the medication ritual tonight and I needed something sweet to eat really, really badly. I forgot to get anything sweet on my last visit to the grocery store. In illicit drug terms, they call this jonesing.
“I’ll get you some of those vanilla cookies I love,” my father told me cheerily. “They’re cheap, but they taste delicious.”
I was surprised at how easy that was, and my father is even bringing them to me.
“I am coming by your house now and dropping the cookies off,” my father just called and told me.
He called one more time when he pulled up in front of my house.
This is very out of character for my father to do this. He is not much one for altruism for Andrew of this sort. I guess he felt sorry for me as I sounded pretty pitiful when I asked him.
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