OK, just got back from a birthday lunch with my mom and stepdad.
I have to say…this thing where my stepdad is nice to me is kinda freakin’ me out. We used to get along really well…until I was about 11. From then on, we did not get along so well. Basically, he was a hellraiser teenager, so I think he assumed I would be the same way. Then, after I went to college and moved out, we basically just sort of were civil to each other for my mom’s sake. It was always very tense.
But all of a sudden, lately, he is nice to me! I was at my mom’s for Grandma Bea’s birthday a couple of weeks ago, and John (my stepdad) and I had a great time. He shared his good bourbon with me, and we talked about computers (he’s turning into a total hardware geek), politics, and conspiracy theories. And it was a conversation that was among equals; it didn’t feel like he was talking and I was just listening. He listened to everything I said, and we discussed.
My stepdad is a very smart guy. I learned a lot from him when I was younger; I remember sitting around the breakfast table and learning about the concepts of Mutual Assured Destruction (nothing like discussing the Cold War using juice glasses as visual aids). It’s pretty remarkable to me that he seems to respect me in what I know now.
Anyway, he has NEVER come to visit me before. Even my mom rarely comes into the city (in the two years I lived on Wellington, she never came to that apartment). But apparently it was his idea to take me out to lunch for my birthday. And amusingly enough, I discovered (last night when giving him directions), that he used to live just down the block from my old apartment. So we went to see it today and he told stories of living in that neighborhood. He was about my age at the time too. It was really weird. But kinda cool.
m.