Just spent the last week in Portland with my folks. Five days would've been perfect. interesting watching them interact with my kids as an outside observer. Gives me some understanding of why they acted the way they did towards my brothers and me when we were kids. Doesn't make it totally acceptable, but takes the bite away a little bit.

Last night we were there, dad got explosively angry at me for buying the wrong kind of peanuts for the dinner he was making. Put me in a place I haven't been for a long, long time. Nevertheless. I'm a grownup now, so I felt okay telling him to fuck off and then going to play with my kids. Unexpected: the tenderness I felt watching him nibble at the periphery of the scene, wondering how to make things better. Like I said, distance fosters understanding. We got really drunk that night, like every night.

I should say: my parents have given me so much throughout my life, including a very comfortable childhood, and the continuing opportunity to grow. They're also a lot of fun, so long as I can escape when necessary. Take the good with the bad.