My former husband nicknamed my parents BobDad and MomPam in the 80’s. I just went down to return my dad’s Mini Cooper and pick my car up in the shop. And look what my dad was doing, to the side of his house! It’s a shed, with the top level being a grandkids’ playhouse.
Cool, right? I TOLD you he was tireless and energetic!
We were talking about my son having no job this summer and how my dad and I, being rather ambitious by nature, don’t get it. Don’t get him.
BobDad said, “You told me when you were 15 that you wanted to go see Laura in Florida. And I said, ‘Great! Get a job to pay for it then! How about McDonald’s?’ And you were horrified. You said, ‘Who’d want to work in that greasy place?’ And you came home with the polyester uniform THAT DAY.’”
Heh. If you want, you can go check out the photo of me in my McD’s uniform at age 16 on facebook, mercilessly dug up by an ex-BF.
We drove down to the shop, and as I gave Miguel the third $600 check this year, BobDad gleefully started lecturing me in front of all the guys who did the work on my Pilot’s front end: “So, Robyn, as you drive away, glance around, at things in front of you. It’s important not to drive CLOSE to those things.” (All the shop guys yuk-yukking.)