Insufficient
He lived in a house full of estrogen.
Surrounded by Mom, my sister and me
Dad had to create a way to cope.
He had his own little hiding place
for whenever we fought or talked
about something he didn't want to hear.
We came home every day to his teachings
on worm holes and String Theory and
on understanding imaginary numbers.
We rolled our eyes and made fun of his
contraptions and tendency towards tech.
But he kept teaching us.
On Christmas Mom opened her present
from my sister and me that we had bought
with our allowance money.
She held the necklace up to the light
and commented on how nice it would look
with her blue blazer on Sunday.
Dad looked at the present we gave him.
The box was very small and he already
knew exactly what was inside of it.
He opened the lid and said "Oooh,"
faking his excitement for the grocery store
candy that filled up the inside.
Dad taught me to ride a bicycle,
he showed us how to look at the stars
and record ourselves on the tape recorder.
He put our Band-Aids on and kissed our knees
and somewhere in the top of his closet
That box of cheap candy sits, untouched.
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