Go take a motrin

You know those happy memories you have...
Of just you and your dad.
You and your father.
Just spending time together.
Doing whatever it is that made you happy.
Well i only have one memory like that.
Its November of 2007.
We have our dog champ with us.
He needs a new pen.
So me and my dad go to HomeDepot to buy wood.
We spent all day on  that pen.
And at the end of the day,
We went to my favorite resturant for dinner.
Just me and my dad.
Talking about scouts.
Talking about school.
Talking about life.
Just me and him.
Well this memory is all I have.
Dont think my dad is dead.
Dont think he left my family.
He just left me.
He goes to all my sisters soccer games.
Takes care of my sisters when they are sick.
Does everything for them.
But when im sick, he tells me to take a motrin.
When I have a deabte tournment or a scout trip, he tells me my sisters have a soccer game.
But in reality...
He hates me.
I dont know why.
Or what i did but he hates me.
I bring this up because yesterday i walked up to a church near my house to meet up with a friend.
I was sitting there waiting.
And two families come up to the playground, which is where i was sitting.
The moms sat and talk.
And the dads ran around with the kids.
Laughing.
One kid fell.
Hurt his knee
The dad helped him up.
Didnt tell him to go take a motrin.