Hello, Molly!: A Memoir

by Molly Shannon

As the door was shutting, my dad hissed at the clerk, “And fix your teeth!” He would always hurl one last insult, and it was always about appearance.

SO I EITHER ADORED my dad or was frustrated and at the end of my rope. There was a lot of back-and-forth. I never knew which dad I would get, the one who met my needs or the one who couldn’t. I’d be frustrated by him.

One time we climbed to the top of a hill, with a beautiful view, and I cried and cried as Ann just said, “I understand. I’m sorry.”

But then, if there was a party, he was the kind of person who would start drinking for the night and not know when to stop.

pay on the plane with the credit card (People Express!),

Maybe more women need to push the rules to get to the yes and even out the biased playing field in Hollywood.

Suddenly everything made sense—the craziness, the drinking, the anger. I realized he hadn’t gotten to be himself. Deep compassion, love, and understanding just flooded in.