Monday, January 14, 2013

His Favorite Dog

After all of the drama was over, after Meg and I confronted him, after Mom found out, after he moved out for a while, after a lot of therapy and after he moved back in, the hardest part about interacting with my father after he cheated on my mother was watching him adore her all over again.

It was infuriating. The gifts and the flowers and the sappy text messages that I would accidentally see. Where was that before, Dad? Why did it take such a big mistake for you to see what you have?

His displays of affection eventually died down to what seemed reasonable. And less annoying.

But it still gets to me. Two years later and there are occasions when my father is so sweet to my mom that I want to strangle him.

I know. It doesn't make sense. I know.

At Christmastime, I was helping around the house one day when my mom was taking a nap. From the room I was in, I could hear her snoring. I snickered about it to my dad, who remarked "I think it's cute," while wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. "Your mom is so cute when she snores."

I told my mother about it later. She rolled her eyes (though I think she secretly likes it) and said "I think I am your father's favorite dog."

He does kind of adore her in the same boisterous, certain way he adores his dogs. While behaving like a puppy himself, trotting after Mom with stars in his eyes.

Foolish, isn't it? Babbling on about how my dad loves my mom too much.

I realize that it is a good problem to have. That it actually isn't a problem at all.

It's just residue. A bit of mess left behind.

Eventually, there will be a day that I will see that behavior as endearing and not as a reminder that my dad cheated on my mom.

Just not quite yet.


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