I've been kind of thinking about--families, and stuff like that. Probably because it's Thanksgiving. Anyways, I was thinking, and I remembered when Grace and I used to be little, we would do--silly little things, like making up new parents. People who were nice, celebrities, or maybe just people who caught our eye--we'd come up with these stories about how they were our real parents, and they'd had to give us away to Dad for some reason. I wonder if most kids do that? Or maybe it was just because we didn't see Dad that often.
In the end, though, for all the make-believe we invented, we never really doubted whose kids we were. Because--he's our Dad. We look like him. Act like him. Got some of his quirks.
...I always took it for granted, but I was...pretty lucky to know him like that. Knowing who I came from, and being able to look at him and see who I might be. ...Who I don't want to be. I mean, I didn't take over the business when... there wasn't any one reason for that, it was a bunch of things--"it's boring", "I don't want to live at home anymore"--but I know I'd never take it. I like traveling, but I don't want my job to pull me away all the time.
...I don't think this has a point. Just that time of year, I guess, for counting your blessings.
Oh, yeah. That was a great dinner, Nani. Thanks.