Today I was at the grocery store with my parents because I'm the most pathetic 25-years-old man alive. My mother and I were walking down an aisle when it occurred to me that my father had fallen behind somewhere along the line. I back-tracked along our progress through the store when I found him in the deli section with two packages of hot dogs in his hands, hefting them.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I can't decide which one to get," he said, his eyes never leaving the packages. "This one is bun-sized, but these are thicker; I can't tell which one weighs more."
It had happened: before my very eyes, in the middle of Dan's, my dad had become an old man.
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