When I was six years old, I thought every Dad built their own house and knew how to live in the woods. I thought every Dad had a basement full of machines that you could take apart and put back together. I thought every Dad built giant bonfires and made gasoline patterns in the front yard to light it. I thought every Dad had two canoes strapped together with a grill welded to the front to make hamburgers and hot dogs on the river. I thought every Dad ate dinner with robot-machine sound effects and wrestled with his kids on the carpet. I thought every Dad took his kids hiking in the woods and could name every tree in Kentucky, or took his kids fishing and could name every fish in Kentucky, too. I thought every Dad drove a big red truck and I thought every kid got excited to see it drive down the street.
But I was wrong. That's just my Dad!
Next post: Sally, John and Evan. And I'll do my best to dig out some pics!