Today was my Dad's birthday, and I always like to remember him today than the day he died.....
One of my favorite stories he told was about going to a mine in New England. We used to go to New Hampshire every summer for a week, and my dad was a rockhound.... He would often wear a work shirt, and dickies to dig through dirt, rocks, etc. He rolled up to a mine with his working gear on, and pulled a hard-hat out of the trunk. (of course he had a hard hat!)
He walked up to the mine and asked a guy for a tour. The guy grabbed the foreman and gave my dad the five-star tour of the operation. It became evident that the foreman thought my dad was some sort of inspector and not just a curious rockhound. My dad never told him a story, but just went along with it and got a tour that no other rockhound got that summer! My dad said thanks for the tour at the end, and the foreman probably breathed a sigh of relief thinking he passed some kind of safety inspection. In the end, everyone was happy.
Happy Birthday, Dad!
One of my favorite stories he told was about going to a mine in New England. We used to go to New Hampshire every summer for a week, and my dad was a rockhound.... He would often wear a work shirt, and dickies to dig through dirt, rocks, etc. He rolled up to a mine with his working gear on, and pulled a hard-hat out of the trunk. (of course he had a hard hat!)
He walked up to the mine and asked a guy for a tour. The guy grabbed the foreman and gave my dad the five-star tour of the operation. It became evident that the foreman thought my dad was some sort of inspector and not just a curious rockhound. My dad never told him a story, but just went along with it and got a tour that no other rockhound got that summer! My dad said thanks for the tour at the end, and the foreman probably breathed a sigh of relief thinking he passed some kind of safety inspection. In the end, everyone was happy.
Happy Birthday, Dad!
No comments:
Post a Comment