The Hero Within

These past few days, I’ve been making a big scene to everyone about my dad coming this week to visit me. (Refer to my second blog post about my dad). Deep down, I was dreading the spiel that he usually gave me about every little tiny thing, which was pretty much warning me of all the bad things that could happen to me. (I think growing up with that has had a huge influence on my personality but anyways, that’s another topic – which I may delve into when I have the chance.)

The day he arrived, I was caught up with work and made him wait for a few hours at a nearby McDonalds before I was done. He complained about how the food was too oily when I took him out to my favourite local restaurant and I was slightly disappointed. (I realize now that it’s a good thing he complained because he is the best cook in the family so he knows what he’s talking about. Thank goodness my parents are health-conscious. )

I was actually nervous when I led him into my apartment but secretly proud because I thought I did a bang-up job keeping the place tidy. He didn’t say much about it so I assumed he was impressed. For the next 4 hours, it was a big whirlwind and my dad managed to make my place 100 times better. He fixed my lights, he brought things from Hong Kong that’d make my life so much easier (Swiffer-like dust cleaners, for example – I swear, I couldn’t find them in Nanjing for some reason), he fixed the pressure from my showerhead (I am aware of the protocol of fixing showerheads but in my experience, I have broken too many so I was too cautious to try fixing this one), he sorted out apartment issues with my landlord who only understood Mandarin...and so much more, which I did not expect. Later, I was sad to hear that he was tired because he ended a great conversation that I would have much enjoyed in the wee hours of the night.

My dad was the unexpected hero that seemed like your average Joe but made my day because he is my dad.

I shouldn't keep a hero waiting at a McDonald's next time.