Fried Chicken Wings and Some Things Don't Change

17 years ago when I was 16 and experienced my first disappointment in my boyfriend, my father somehow sensed something was bothering his usually noisy and never leave him in peace daughter. It was a sunday and I was at the coffee shop where my father was working then and was sitting around mulling in silence over how pissed off I was with my boyfriend (whose existence my father never knew of).At a time like that I would usually be bugging my dad to buy me a bottle of coke when he was having his routine tea time coffee. Seeing his daughter in an unusually pensive mood, he decided to order a bottle of coke for her without having to be pestered into buying one to cheer her up. I remember thinking on that day,how despite having a boyfriend, it is still my dad who cared enough to lift my spirits up.

Fast forward to 17 years later on this night, when again despite being with my current boyfriend for years (and this time with my father's full knowledge and blessings) I was again fuming mad because of my boyfriend's not caring attitude (he is probably thinking his girlfriend is stark raving mad and is a selfish bitch to boot) My father called me to tell me that he has fried some chicken wings for me and left it covered on the coffee table before his one hour drive back to Sepang. He called because he wanted to let me know that he fried the chicken wings for me, his way of making it up to me for not being able to fry them yesterday when I came home hungry and looking forward to some fried chicken wings.

As I ate a chicken wing (even though I have had dinner and a coffee and am trying to slim down) I thought of how some things never change. When I was young and looking for someone who cares, I found it right where it always was: with my dad. When I am grown up and looking for someone who cares again, I found it right where it has always been: with my dad. This realisation is somewhat painful and at the same time comforting. Painful because it seems like no boyfriend will ever be able to know how to comfort me in my time of need regardless of whether they are some fresh 16 year old boy or a supposedly more polished 33 year old man (which means the rest of my life could suck big time). Comforting because as long as dad is here, things will always be ok because there will be a drink of coke and of course some fried chicken wings dished out at the right time by the loving thoughts of a father to his daughter.