I slept on and off all morning into the afternoon. Then I woke up in a panic and realized I was late going to my parents’ house for Father’s Day festivities. Alas, my house is still neglectedly unkempt.

My dad seemed to really like the liquor dispenser. He assembled it right away, then started playing with it with tap water. All the fun with liquor dispenser sans liquor made me want a drink, so I poured myself a shot of some Mexican coffee-flavored liquor I found in my parents’ cabinet. GAAACK! That crap’s strong. I should’ve gone for the Kahlua next to it. My Asian can’t-waste-food gene kept me from pouring the drink down the sink, so I tried to save it. Milk would be a good idea, I thought, and rummaged thru my parents’ fridge. Of course, no milk. This is an Asian family’s fridge. And soy milk just seems wrong. My dad suggested I water it down with ice or water, which I did, and it was still nasty. Finished it anyway.

Dinner was cool; my parents, maternal grandma and I went to a Chinese restaurant with my godbro’s family and my grandma’s sorta-relatives. My little godbro is now almost 18, has a hilarious sardonic sense of humor (actually, he always did even as a kid), is starting his freshman year at Berkeley in the fall, and drove me back to my parents’ house in his BMW. I smile wryly. How time flies. “Twenty-nine…the big TWO-NINE,” he rubbed in as we drove back. Hey, I’ve got almost 2 weeks before I’m officially the big two-nine. I had a blast bonding with my godbro, and we tentatively set up some future things to do together (such as working out).