A bit ago, I mentioned dad got a shed full of wood for $50.
He’s already made three trips.
Over the course of a month.
He’s got at least two more.
That’s a lot of lumber. Even dad says it’s, “more lumber than I have projects to do with it.”
Now that’s saying something!
“Don’t you ever get nervous about how low it’s hanging?” I asked him.
“It might hit the ground. Rough up the lumber.”
“That’s what we call distressed lumber, son. It’s the new ‘thing,'” he said.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget how much pleasure he derives from going 15 mph down the freeway, hazards on, middle finger extended as sports cars cruise past him with angry honks.
Dad just smiles and smiles.
What an [censored].
(And yes, the lumber really is balancing on the tailgate…just as it has the last four times dad’s done this).