This photo pretty much sums up my childhood. Dad keeps the Sevin dust (for his tomatoes) on top of the guest mini-fridge in the basement. “Here, have a beer and sprinkle this around.” Then you paint some stuff for him. “Oh, yeah, that’s oil-based. Let me pour some gasoline on ya. Here’s this dirty old rag. Rub the gas until your skin is burning and bleeding and then it’ll come off.” “Oh. I cut your finger with the saw? Okay, stop crying. Lets finish sawing this board and then we’ll go inside and out some methiolate on it.
Okay. That last one was Pop.
This is mostly for leelee’s benefit. Because sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that we came by the crazy honestly.