My favorite memory might be when I would lay on my living room floor while my dad watched TV. We had this really ugly, small square pillow that was dark blue and had anchors and other weird pictures on it. I don't know why I liked laying on the floor so much. I remember it being really uncomfortable and at the time I hated it. I think most of all I hated the feeling of laying on that rug. It was almost itchy and irritating. Now that I think about it I don't understand why I never got a blanket or even sat in another chair. I remember feeling secretive and like it was a privilege to watch TV with him.

My dad would always put on the TV land channel and watch a bunch of old black and white reruns. I really hated that too. I don't even think I actually ever even watched the shows. I think I would spend the entire time day dreaming or tracing the pattern on the pillow with my finger until I fell asleep. I think my favorite part was when he himself would gradually drift into a deep sleep, and I would start to devise all these plans to successfully go into the kitchen and get a snack. I was never allowed to have one before dinner. I remember I would stare at him all worried and anxious before I got up, just to make sure he wasn't awake. I would get so paranoid that the littlest of body movement would wake him up. He never caught me once, and I don't think I've ever actually told him I did this.

I'm surprised at how well I actually remember this. I watched TV with him almost everyday. I remember every time The Andy Griffith Show came on he'd whistle along to the theme song, and it made me truly happy. I'd ask him every time to teach me how to whistle but I could never learn. I don't understand why this is my favorite memory, especially since I partly hated everything about it. I'm starting to realize that maybe it's because while growing up, and even now, I never had a close relationship with my dad. That was one of the few times we actually bonded. And while rarely speaking or even looking at each other.