Pop

I've formed a habit that brings me so much happiness.

At night, my dad and I watch the news together and discuss big things in little voices; we take in the world from behind the safety of a plasma screen.

Normally, I'd be reading in bed or finishing some project, but there's this one thing that makes me grin ear to ear, one thing that makes me sit through the late night newscasters with their stiff, unmoving hair and false laughter:

My dad turns into a little boy at night when he gets all tired. By the time the sports clips flicker blue back on our faces in the darkness of the living room, my dad is fully reclined and asleep in his scarlet lazyboy. He has a little, pilled, plaid blanket draped across his long legs and a blissful look that removes 30 years. 

That look, that little bit of collecting saliva at the corner of his mouth.... it's so cute.