Divorces are not that unusual today; in fact, it's less common if your parents are still married. My parents are also divorced, yet my situation continues to be out of the ordinary... I live with my father. That's right, just the two of us! I moved in three and a half years ago, and the change was immense. My first thought was that my new home would be the party house. My father only knew how to cook macaroni & cheese, and the local pizzeria was speed dial number 1. My lifestyle changed rapidly. It was hard to remember whose name to yell out when I needed anything, for example the bug killed in the kitchen. He adjusted quickly to the phone ringing and the closing of the bathroom door, while I learned his soft spots and not having a bed time.

The absence of my mother in my daily life is, of course, painful, yet it has made me stronger. Through the past few years my dad and I have became closer and we've made up for lost time. I once saw a young father with his three-year-old daughter in the park, blowing bubbles together. I commented to my dad that we had never done that. The next day he came home with a bottle of suds, and I had to teach him how to make the bubbles.

My father and I share responsibilities. Early Sunday morning grocery shopping is our favorite pastime. He has given me a gift many girls miss out on: the appreciation of life. Let alone knowing how to change the truck's brakes, rewire a lamp and install tub tiles. I have the ability to express my true feelings and not just when the referees make a stupid call. We have forced each other to grow up, and, in the process, still enjoy our life together. He has the perfect separation of powers, being both the enforcer (I use the nickname "Gestapo") and my friend. Although I rarely tell him I appreciate his efforts - like the time he helped me searching for the perfect pair of beige pumps - he not only has put forth his best, but I do not know anyone who could do half as well. c