So my father enters my room and sits on my bed with a solicitous yet aloof look in his eyes. I revolve my face from the laptop screen to the general direction of my father's face, meeting his glance with equal discomfort.
He raises his stare from the floor.
"Son, I am virtually sure that you will overcome any and all obstacles in your time in [University Name], even though you will be half a world away from us. You've demonstrated a degree of self-sufficiency that my young self would've envied.. "
As he speaks, my suspicions that initially arisen from his glare are confirmed by this obvious verbal cushioning.
"..But see, you never do sports. Or any physical activity at all! Actually, to be honest, you're the least physically active person I know of. You should seriously *rhetoric pause* start doing some kind of physical activity! I'm worried you might develop a disease or something!"
I retort with the reply that includes philosophical rationalizations that justify being a couch potato which I recite from memory, since I had to give this answer to quite a large number of people. As I work up to my last main point, my father frustratedly interrupts "You can't do all that if you're dead." With a disturbing deadpan stare, he stands up and leaves my room without breaking eye contact, leaving me with an emotion that could only described by the words "What the fuck" .
As the initial shock subsides, I immediately ponder about the fact that the nub of my college application essay was my detest of gyms, and the last time I remember running was 3 months ago. And as I reach for a snack, I find at least some truth amongst the words uttered.
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