Noodles on a Bike

Takes 40 minutes out of his work day, yes, his work day, to talk to me because I am having a bad fucking day.
40 minutes to tell me I'm smart, and that I can accomplish anything and to tell me I'm beautiful.
And you know what? I felt better.

My mother takes 7 minutes out of her TV watching to say the exact oppopsite of everything my dad had said.
That I've already ruined my life, and that she's going to make my life a living hell and that if I'm dissappointed in my weight I should "get off my fat lazy ass and do something about it."

Wow.
Thanks Dad.
Mom, you're a fucking bitch.