My mom likes old movies and plants. My dad only likes golf, and that is not a winter sport except for in Florida, and we don’t live there.
And he doesn’t play baseball anymore. He doesn’t like to be even reminded unless he tells the stories.
I just wanted to know what to buy my dad because I love him. And I don’t know him. And he doesn’t like to talk about things like that.
“Well, why don’t you chip in with your sister and buy him that sweater?”
“I don’t want to. I want to buy him something. What kind of music does he like?”
My dad doesn’t listen to music a lot anymore, and the stuff he likes, he has.
“What kind of books does he like to read?” My dad doesn’t read books too much anymore
because he listens to books on cassette tapes on the way to work, and he gets them free from the library.
What kind of movies? What kind of anything? My sister decided to buy the sweater on her own.
And she started to get mad at me because she needed time to come back to the store to buy that present for her secret boyfriend.
“Just buy him some golf balls, Charlie. Jesus.” “But that’s a summer sport.” “Mom. Would you make him buy something?”
“Charlie. Calm down. It’s okay.” I felt so sad. I didn’t know what was going on.
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