Once we got home from dinner, the boys put on a concert for us in the basement, (I even caught a guitar pick…rock on!), and tucked ’em in bed. Been thinking a lot about my dad, missing him and wishing he were here to see the kids latest accomplishments, hear their Papaw spottings when they see the night’s first star in the sky, and know how much we think of him.
So, as I logged on to my laptop tonight, with thoughts of Dad on my brain, a photo of Kellie Pickler’s grandfather enjoying a miniature Coke brought a smile to my face.
It was my Dad’s favorite drink, one he chugged relentlessly, and he bought the syrupy sodas by the cartons full. He almost always had a little Coke in one hand and a can of Pringles in the other. He drank them like they were water, sometimes 2 or 3 at at time, and loved to ice down the glass bottles in a tub when company visited. Dad stocked up on tiny Cokes the way other men stock up on batteries, and I never knew others outside of our circle to drink them, until now.
I like this guy already.