Today I have finally typed all of the Hubby's stories he has written about his childhood. They are a hoot. I thought I would share one of the short ones. After finishing he was sharing another "event" that I've never heard before. I was laughing like crazy when he was telling me the story. He's promised to put this one on paper as well.
THE CAR LOOKS BAD
We had an old 1946 Chevrolet Coupe that looked really bad.
My Dad wanted to have it painted before we went on vacation to Panama City, Florida, but didn't have the money. My Mom had an idea. So she ordered two gallons of pain from Sears. One gallon of beige and one gallon of powder blue. She and my brother, Denny, painted that car while Daddy was at work. It looked like it had been painted with pine tops.
You should have seen the expression on my Dad's face when he saw that car, let alone the words that came out of his mouth. Words that I could never repeat to this day. After circling that car for a couple of hours he finally came in the house and said, "you know, it does look somewhat better." He fell asleep in his favorite easy chair with the newspaper in his lap after he had killed a six-pack of beer before ten o'clock that evening.
We never heard another word about our fiasco point job.
This incident occurred in the early 1950's so Hubby would have been about seven or eight years old and his brother would have been about 14 or 15. I'm not telling his Mom's age.