There's a reason my Dad is grinning.

After just a few years of working, my Dad is officially retired!!

I remember living in the UP and my dad was commuting to MN to work. He'd leave for who knows how long. When you are little, it felt like forever. In reality, it was probably a week or two. I'd wait and wait for him to come home. He would give me whatever he got from work- a little day planner, a pen, or some other little treasure. Chances are, it only happened a couple times. But when you look back, those couple things are remembered as "always".

One time, I was lucky enough to hitch a ride to MN with him. I wasn't it school yet and I'm sure my mom was glad to have a little break from me. Even though I was a perfect child. ;) Anyway. I spent the week with my cousin Hannah while my dad worked. On the trip there, we were lucky enough to stop and eat at McDonalds. A very rare treat. I can picture this clearly to this day. My dad and I were sitting at a two-seater table against the wall. I was eating my cheeseburger meal. (orange pop, of course. I loved and still love anything that smells or tastes like orange) And I looked over to my right and there was a big guy eating his meal. He had his back to me. He was wearing a green jacket. And much to my dismay, his big, hairy plumbers crack was on display. And I quickly looked back at my food. But instead of seeing my cheeseburger, I saw his crack. And I could not stomach another bite of it. My sweet Mickey D's burger. Half eaten. And I remember my dad wrinkling his forehead and asking me if I was going to eat that. I didn't dare tell him why I couldn't eat it. He tried to coax me, but it was useless. That burger was forever a plumbers crack in my mind. There you go, Dad. That's why I didn't finish my burger.

You are welcome for that story.

So, obviously, commuting to MN wasn't going to last forever and we moved to MN. And we got to see my Dad come home every day. I remember just waiting for him to get home. And when the front door opened, we'd go running to see Dad. And we'd take his gray lunchbox from him and bring it into the kitchen. I always hoped I'd find some kind of uneaten treat, like a candy bar, just waiting for me. My dream never did come true.

And today. He no longer needs to wake up at the crack of dawn, make himself a pot of puuroa and head off to work. He can sleep in, go for coffee at Daniels and then spend the rest of the day restoring his truck or fishing. Or whatever he wants. He worked hard. He provided a good life for us. He deserves to be retired.

Enjoy it, Dad! You deserve it. The kids can't believe their luck that you will be around during the day when we come to visit. They are already scheming the things they will do with you. Just to warn you.