Thin threads


 

July 17 1990, I was 13 years old and enjoying summer vacation before

starting 8th grade. I walked into my house and my brother was on the

phone talking with my father. I told my brother I wanted to talk with

my dad when he was done. After a few minutes, he handed the phone

to me. I asked my father what they were talking about, and he told me

he had offered my older brother a job at his office running prints and

other odd jobs. My brother was watching tv, and didn’t want to ride up

to his office, so he said no. I told my dad ‘I’ll do it.’

 

25 years later, I’m still here. Along the way, I met Andrea when she

stopped in to pickup some plans. We ended up getting married and had

two kids. One is a sweetheart, and the other was rejected by ISIS for

being too wild and crazy. We live in the greatest city in the greatest

state in the greatest country. We have a small little house which is

sometimes too small, but is made up for by having an awesome

backyard. I don’t suppose I’ll ever be rich, but we have enough to make

ends meet, and still seem to have a good time together.

Kind of a fun life when you look back on it all and realize everything I

am up to this point was because one hot day in July I made the choice to

ride six miles to run blueprints for a small home design firm


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