After my mom died and it was just me and my dad, I had to do all the things mom should have been doing. Like, had had to have all of his toe-nails removed due to his diabetes.... So here is me, at 15, having to put this cream on my dad's wounded feet to ward off infection.

Then later he had to have shoulder surgery and here is me at 18 having to nurse him back to being his normal self.

Of course then there was the time he brought home a passage from a 1950s home economics book describing how to grow up and be the "perfect wife." (Very Stepford wife description.) Once I read it and laughed and said, "Wow, things were really different then." He looked me square in the face and seriously said, "This explains why you will never find a husband." I love my dad, but we just see things in totally different ways.