Fathers and Gifts
The smell of cigarette smoke rose off the paper bag wrapped tightly at the top. Tucked alongside the brown glass quart of Falstaff beer were a half dozen Snicker bars—enough for the six of the eight of us kids still living at home. A true pay day delight. Reading Father’s Day tributes, I’m compelled to give one to mine as best I can. This requires calling forth memories. Dad’s return from the Rinky Dink Bar on Friday nights is one of mine. Also in my memory bank is the time he pulled a splinter out of my foot and the
