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Sent: Sunday, June 17, 2007 5:12 AM
My dad used to say that inside of the car's air-bags was uncooked popcorn. When you wrecked the popcorn would pop and you would have a snack until help came.
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Sent: Sunday, June 17, 2007 6:13 AM
When I was little, my dad told me ATMs worked by having little monkeys inside them. I believed that for years. Now I work in a bank, and wish it were true!
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Sent: Sunday, June 17, 2007 6:55 AM
My dad told me the worst swear word you could possibly say was "Bostonian". It meant "someone who has no private parts." My brother and I used the word until we were teenagers and my father giggled every time we said it, right before he sent us to our rooms.
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Sent: Sunday, June 17, 2007 8:29 PM
when i was little my dad told me that polyester was a small animal in australia & they would kill it to make clothes. that night i sat in my room reading the labels on my clothes for hours & threw all of the polyester ones away.
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Sent: Sunday, June 17, 2007 10:06 PM
When I was little my Dad told me that the tune played by the ice-cream van was the ice-cream man letting everyone know that he'd run out of ice-cream.
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Sent: Sunday, June 17, 2007 9:56 AM
When we'd approach exits or toll booths, my father told me the sound the car made when it went over the rumble strips was the car getting angry because I had been bad. I still sit up a little straighter when I hit a rumble strip.
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Sent: Sunday, June 17, 2007 1:41 PM
Subject: no outlet
When I was little, I would move my finger up and down in the air to make the car window 'magically' move up and down when I was with my dad. I always knew that he was the one doing it, but the day I said it was him he stopped. Even after, when I would lie and say I forgot, or would beg him to do it, he refused and said I was too big now. I still regret revealing I knew it was him.
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3 comments:
I loved these Angela! The wide-eyed innocence of children is delightful!
I once had a friend who was driving along the highway with his four year old son when a dear lept across the road. With complete confidence the boy looked at his father and said "Make another one come, Daddy".
When we lived in Germany, my then husband told my daughter that he had built the beautiful Muenster Cathedral in Ulm that we had all climbed to the top of. She firmly believed him for several years after, much to his pleasure and my groan.
Ahh to be so highly thought of!
My dad used to tell us that the scar on his right thigh was a graze wound from the war. We thought that was so cool. If Rambo had been out at the time, in my eyes, my dad would have been the prototype. He was so cute and strong. To think getting shot at in 'the war' and the bullet grazing his leg! How brave. Come to find that he gauged it on the garage door. Noooooo!!!!!!!!
Ah, he was still my hero.
I think I am gonna blog about him.
I loved those comments, Ang.
My dad has a magic finger amputation trick which mystified me for years.
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