You should get back to making pretty pictures of fancy people.” It was possibly the most supportive thing he’d ever said to me. “You’re a really terrible father,” I said, matter-of-fact. “You know that, right?” “Of course I know it. I’m dumb but I’m not stupid,” he said. “It’s not like you’re winning Daughter of the Year prizes yourself.” “Oh, fuck off.” “Same to you.”
