back home

My father and I are like best friends.  When I come back home during breaks, we have a great time talking about all kinds of things.  I can have enjoyable conversations with other people too, but the ones I have with my father are somewhat special -- I can often tell what my father is thinking before he says it and he can also tell what I have in mind, and still, it never gets boring.  We even share pretty extreme opinions sometimes, but my father is more extreme, and I probably enjoy the balance between the predictable and the unpredictable.

My mother is often surprised to see how much we think alike.  She makes fun of us when our conversations heat up, or when my father gets excited and keeps talking to me the first day I come back.  Today was one of those days.  My father kept talking about a paper on swine roundworms as we ate breakfast.

Mom: お友達が帰ってきてうれしいね (You're so happy your friend's back, aren't you?)  It's such a pity you have to go to kindergarten.
Dad: It's too bad I have a school play tomorrow.
Me: You're in it too?
Dad: No, I'm just one of the audiences. ...Usually anyone can come but we're restricting the entrance for swine roundworm because --
Mom (to me): His school play stories aren't that interesting, so concentrate on eating and finish that breakfast.

In a way, it's actually like my mom raised us both.  My parents remind me that people do change with patience and commitment and time.  Not because he's asked to, but because it makes things easier, or it's the only way to be with someone.  Maybe it's kind of like evolution.