Put Your Dreams in Flight

I'm sitting amidst a slew of dishes and pans and macaroni and cheese which is slowly starting to crust over.  I've probably had too much wine for 6:45pm on a Thursday - but who cares, I'm alone with Dad and it's been a hard week.  Mom's away on a dinner conference and together, so Daddy and I attempted dinner.  For some reason when I picked him up today he was in a delightful mood - surprisingly pleasant - and then we get home and the tears and anger start spewing all over the kitchen as I attempt to prepare turkey burgers and kraft mac 'n cheese.  He helped me flip the burgers and time them out correctly - and amazingly, they were the most tender, juicy, delicious, perfectly crusted turkey burgers I've ever tasted.  But in the time frame of defrosting the meat up until the final product we experienced an angry phone call to his mother, an attempt at leaving the house, and an angry outbreak in which i thought he may throw my beautiful little MacBook into the backyard.  Obviously that impulse was averted since I'm typing to you now -- but the array of emotion was an odd adventure given the complacent and happy Dad I picked up from CNS only 2 hours before.  At one point this evening, Dad was looking through the mail and crying, and comes in carrying this very elaborate publicity for Ireland and whining, "I want to put my dreams in flight..." I'm sorry but I started laughing.  when I checked the mail earlier I saw this publicity stunt and thought - wow, that is crazy.  It's like a whole packet with postcards and promotion for Ireland tourism, and I too thought - "wow, if only I could put my dreams in flight and whisk off to the land of green and Guiness... how wonderful that would be..."  And then, a mere 25 minutes later Dad walks in crying "I want to put my dreams in flight."  I just laughed and said -- "hah - me too Dad.  if only."