Re: Your fav. Dad-stories
My dad taught me to drive when I was 11. We had a '66 Chevy C10 step-side pickup with 3-on-the-tree. Dad said if I could drive that I could drive anything, the rest of my life.
Next day he told me to get in the truck and gather up trash from the units around our resort (ha! motivation revealed). Coming around a corner up a hill, I panicked and hit the gas instead of the brake. Crashed into a unit and knocked it about 10 inches off its foundation.
I was really scared. Dad was a bit of a tyrant and SOB; I had no idea how he would react but didn't think it would be good.
When I finally told him, he just inspected the damage, said "hm" and had me get right back in and drive again, "Gotta get back on that horse, can't have you afraid of driving."
Then we made a father-son project out of finding new body parts for the truck and replacing the damaged ones. It turned out pretty cool.
Note: we had a guest later who was a structural engineer. He helped us put the unit back by smashing the truck in reverse against the opposite side (with a big carpet remnant for padding), while the engineer stood inside and gave instructions. Heh.
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