For the past half hour my father and I were barricaded on the hill we live on.
The problem: Parked cars on a narrow hill, with two way traffic on a one-lane (going up) street, and to add to the stress a truck with a crane coming down.
Dad just needed something small from home, but what turned out to be a five minute ordeal cost a lost of tempers and patience.
“Dad, I think I can run up and get the items faster than these trucks will move.”
“Go Memoric,” he says with a soft smile on his lips.
I run, I grab the items and he’s at the bottom of the hill waiting.
“I did warn you dad, I did warn you.”
“Shove it Mem,” he says smiling, I climb back up the hill while he gets back into his car and drives away.
One of those moments where I’m happy I have no license. :]