"Hey baby," Daddy called to me. He got up and crossed the room putting his hands on my shoulders and looked over me to Uncle Mike. "You still want to ...o get something to eat?" He asked Uncle Mike."Sure," he replied and looked at me. He just stared at me for a second and turned to get his jacket. We walked out the door and down the street to Pop's Kitchen. We had eaten there nearly every Sunday morning that I could remember.This morning Daddy and Uncle Mike seemed awkward with each other and. Hey! It's my dad. It's very scenic ... pretty. There's not a lot of traffic. No town is larger than five thousand people. The gas is cheaper. Most importantly ... it's my weird dad.We slept.Monday morning we unloaded cars.While Lucy Lou complained about biology experiments in the Fridge and the still existing drip in the sink, Grace and I washed clothes, serviced bicycles, aired musty sheets, read three months of mail and laughed about the immediate attention required notices. The first one was. More

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