I’ve talked before about what it’s like to be the child of a hoarder.
There are VERY rare occasions when it’s a good thing, like when I end up with some funky old bowling lockers from the bowling alley where my dad works:
I really do love those lockers.
Derek doesn’t have my father’s cell phone number in his phone (but I bet he will after today), so when the number popped up he didn’t know who it was and he answered it.
Derek, being the nice guy that he is, agreed to drive out to the Army base so he could get this pile of junk and haul it to my parents’ house:
… yes, that’s a traffic cone !!