Dad was on his way to Alexander City to spend the day with his grandkids boating. My sister lives on Lake Martin. He stopped by to see Maggie and I before he hit the highway for that hour drive.
“He’s trying to get up some beer money I believe,” I told my father. “He will get out of the chair and pull himself up your steps and knock on the door. He lives somewhere in the neighborhood.”
“Hey buddy, you can’t spare ten or twenty bucks, can you?” He will ask.
“It is about a once a month occurrence,” I further said.
“Is he a disabled veteran?” dad then asked me.
“If he were, it would behoove him to wear his uniform and he would be rolling in the cash,” I replied.
1 comment:
That’s sad..
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