Moving Day

I had lived in Orlando Florida for two years with work, and had asked to transfer back to California as I feel more comfortable living in a bankrupt state ran by a former Action Hero. My dad, who had been retired for the last couple of years, had offered to come down and help me pack my things and put them into the moving truck. It is funny how my dad has evolved over the years, and not in the neanderthal knuckles dragging on the floor kind of way. But my dad was a guy's guy, and came from the old school form of parenting where all he had to do was give you "the look," and you shit your pants. I don't remember him ever taking care of me while I was sick in the literal sense, but he was good about bringing home a 2 liter of Sprite and a package of Saltines before retiring to his La-Z-boy to watch Cheers. And that is why it took me by such surprise when he announced that he had volunteered as a candy striper at the local hospital now that he was in his twilight years. I'm not sure if my dad had an epiphany into his own mortality one day or not, but he slowly began going to church again, and sending me Chili's gift cards for no reason with notes attached like "Kathy Griffin loved her dad and wouldn't have sent him to a nursing home." (For the record, I love both Chili's and Kathy Griffin in equal parts).
Two days before I moved my dad came down and boxed up all of the things I had left him on my honey do list while I was at work. Some male co-workers were generous enough to come over and help me move my furniture downstairs to the moving truck below. When we were finished, we had decided to meet at The Ale House around the corner for appetizers and beers, but when I pulled up to the restaurant, I noticed that my wallet was missing. Being a minimalist in every sense of the word, I had nixed even tiny purses for simply carrying my wallet. I had "lost" my wallet three times in the past year because I am extremely absent minded. I have a useless trap of a mind for things that will not further me at all in life like who your third grade teacher was, but I cannot for the life of me remember where I put my keys down five minutes ago. Needless to say, I was panicked and had a total OMG moment. I was flying to Colorado for my friend Susan's wedding first, before moving to California to meet the moving truck and move into my new apartment. This would be a problem since I could not find my wallet which carried my ID that would allow me to board any mode of transportation. I decided to retrace my steps, and let my dad know that I would have to nix dinner.
Apparently he decided that two people looking for the wallet, and him offering any sort of moral support to his panic stricken daughter, would be futile, so he stayed behind and had beers and chicken wings with the guys.
I met him at the moving truck the next day so that we could tear into my boxes and look for my passport. Since I hadn't eaten anything since lunchtime yesterday, he generously bought me his stale chocolate chip cookie from check-in at the Comfort Suites the morning before. We found my passport and I was able to make it to the wedding, but this was only the beginning of my treacherous journey...