He's a good cook, and it's nice because he's willing to spend an hour or two making dinner and cleaning up afterwards, which I was not able to do (not that I was often willing to take that much time, except sometimes on weekends). Heh, not having to rush home and pick up the kids and launch straight into watching them converts the dinner making process from a hellish panicked attempt to get something edible on the table as quickly as humanly possible to a much, much nicer experience.
Anyways it's nice having a good home cooked meal every night, and not having to make it myself. But damnit... it's really weird having my father living with me - and he really is living with me, not vice versa. Sigh.
Heh, of course, when stressed out, I eat more, and when there's good food around, I eat more. Prognosis: my pants won't be fitting for long. :P
Off to dinner.
BTW, Renee: thank you thank you thank you! Brightened up my night like you wouldn't believe. :) Hopefully see you online later!