I have no idea. I read a lot. I've taken your basic psychology courses, and lord knows, I'm big into therapy, but I still don't get it. As far as I can tell, it's a universal thing, some male/female disconnect that extends from childhood, from daughters and fathers, to adulthood, to wives and husbands, where we either pick someone just like our dad, or someone nothing like our dad, only to discover that in some ways, because there is the mind-altering penis that makes men strange, yet desirable, these husbands we picked are inevitably a smidgen like our dads.
(Men recommend that I not use the word smidgen in such close proximity to the word penis. If you're up late at night, you know about Extenz--male enhancement, so you needn't worry.)
Anyway, here is my point. My dad wanted to read my novel, the one that is going to be published by Random House, and get this: he cried! The ending had him in tears, and he doesn't even read fiction. This is my dad we're talking about. He said, "This seems like a real novel; like a real novelist wrote it." Am I supposed to think, "Duh"? I can't believe I'm a real novelist anymore than he can.
Long story short: Do you know what his tears mean to me? Do you know what his comment means to me? THE WORLD.
What surprises you about your dad?