If only my daddy had remembered that when he came flying in over Lake Hartwell with water skis on, he should have landed on the lake instead of in the road.

Then we might never have had this dispute with Taco Bell because their delivery guys had to wait an hour for me to get back home after traveling in my little motorboat to pick up my dad next to the train trestle in Clemson. He wasn’t hurt.

And I would have been sure to order the right kind of cheese, because after all, it was my daddy’s

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