My Dad

My dad's not that outwardly romantic or exuberantly affectionate, but he can sure be nice sometimes.
When I was in college in Long Beach, CA, he worked during the week in Los Angeles -- about an hour away even in heavy traffic. My family lived in northern California, but he'd stay in a hotel while he was working down there. Usually, once during the week when he was in LA, we'd have dinner together -- either he'd come to Long Beach or I'd drive to LA, and we'd go to a restaurant. Often if we went to Long Beach, we'd go to the grocery store or Target after dinner and we'd get some stuff, and he'd pay.
Well, one time, we stopped by the grocery store, and we each bought some drinks and stuff. After, he decided to load up his cooler and he told me he forgot to get gum. He asked me to go in, and he said he didn't care which kind of gum. I came back out with a pack of mint Extra or something and he sent me back in for a different flavor. I came back out with cinnamon and he sent me back in for a different flavor.
For once, I didn't act snotty or annoyed that he kept sending me back, even though he'd said he didn't care which flavor.
Thank goodness, because when I got back to my apartment and unloaded my groceries, I found that he'd rubber-banded a $100 bill to my juice bottle!
I called him to thank him and he told me he'd been having trouble finding a rubber band -- that's why he sent me into the store three times.
Wasn't that nice?
Happy Father's Day, dad!