June 17, 2007
Originally published May 4, 2005
I think I blogged about it before, but it's a good, TRUE story worth telling again. this post reminded me of it.
My father pretty much raised himself and became the youngest section foreman Kentucky had ever seen in a coal mine when he was 23 years old. He did hard work and bossed rough cobs all of his life. He was a hillbilly and he didn't believe in taking shit from anybody.
I was over at the house one day and Dad and I were drinking beer at the kitchen table and talking about all manner of things, when all of a sudden, I saw my father's jaw clench and veins stand out in his neck "Look at THAT," he said.
A big dog was hunkered down taking a righteous shit in my father's front yard. My dad said, "I warned that bastard about that dog. He just don't wanna listen."
With that statement, my father got up from the table, walked to his garage and fetched a shovel. He scooped up the still-steaming dogshit in the yard and went walking down the street. He went to the house where the dog lived and rang the doorbell.
When the door opened, my father said, "I think this belongs to YOU," and he tossed that shovel-full of shit right into their foyer. Then, he turned around and walked back home.
The dog never shit in his yard again.
My daddy had balls.
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