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Another belated "Fuzzy Memories" post

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In all the time I was growing up, I only saw Dad cry two times. After the first time, I didn't say anything. But after the second time I left a note on his dresser that said "See a psychiatrist." I don't know if he ever did, but at least I didn't see him cry again.

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I remember the time I asked Grandpa what he did in the war. At first he didn't say anything. Then he pulled a frozen T-bone steak from under his shirt. "I stole this," he said.
"No," I said, "not the store, the war."
He showed me a red mark on his stomach and said he was wounded, but I think it was from the T-bone.

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One year Dad decided he was going to save money on haircuts, so he bought an electric haircutter kit. At first everything went fine, but then he gave us haircuts. They were horrible. Then everything seemed to be going fine for a while, but then he gave us haircuts again. So I guess, mostly, it was a good idea.