You Don’t Pick Your Family

I love I’m intrigued by the history and genetics of a person. I love to see traits in my kids, and wonder where exactly that might have come from. So, to see my Dad after all of these years, was pretty close to heaven for me. And the best part? His stories. They made me both laugh and cry yesterday. The sad stories I’ll save for another day, but I just have got to write the funny ones down. See, Rebekkah? Storytellers!!!

There were many, many stories. The man in a story teller, and I am never going to be able to do him justice in writing, but I’m going to write some of these down, because they deserve to be preserved for posterity.

All of my Dad’s words are in red for the ease and comfort of my readers. 🙂

The Debt: 

Bobby was just one of those friends that gets away with s*** that I would beat anyone else’s a** over. Once I heard he was over somewhere gambling, and I headed over there to collect some of the $400 he owed me. When I left, he owed me another $20. 

He got himself this motorcycle, and he came over to my house, and asked if I had a wheel, ’cause his back wheel needed replacing. I had all the motorcycle parts, so I said sure. We went out together and I took this wheel off this old bike of mine. He didn’t have any money, so I just let him have it.

The next day he came over and asked me how much for the whole bike. I said, “Well, how much you wanna pay?” He said, ” Well, it ain’t worth much without that wheel.”

Describing my grandmother’s side of the family:

The Kings were a dangerous lot. They’d cut your throat and tell God you died.

Today, I’m taking my little notepad with me so I can write all these down. I wanted to kick myself yesterday because I didn’t bring anything to document with, but I will be prepared today.

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