I just want to take a little trip down memory lane with all of you. This is a shout out to all of those kids out there who had a father named Hal Hexum.
Kady and Kasey Hexum were once young girls who cared what people thought of them. They knew that in order to have true friends they must drive the proper vehicle. They also knew that while they were taking swimming lessons they would need a ride home from their father. (Cue da-da-da-da music for impending doom).
They each had a plan in their own minds, neither thinking to discuss it with the other. Just knowing that when that large blue van, with hundreds of rust spots, each the size of Rhode Island (and coved with a darker blue in spray paint that dripped down the side to the bottom of the van), came into view they must be quick. They heard him approaching before they saw him. Their minds worked quick, they both headed into the parking lot and leaned on some parked cars. Their demeanor was leisurely, but inside their hearts were beating with the sound of a thousand drums. Their father pulled up to the curb shielding them from the eyes of their fellow swimmers.
Relief and sweet release! Unknowingly he had worked it just so, they jumped from their hiding spots and slid the heavy door open and working as a team in consentrated silence they slammed it shut with the strength of 10 men.
Now they ducked and cowered below the windows, Kady taking a spot in the back amoung the dog crates and boxes of rifles, shot guns and homemade-Hal-polished bullets. Kasey not being so lucky as to secure this spot first squeezed herself into the front seat with their dog Tika (her father's definition of a sister). They hoped their friends didn't put two and two together, seeing them one minute leaning on some cars and the next disappeared all together.
Still cowering below the windows, Kasey caught a look from their father. He had a sort of enlightenment in his eye about their situation. Did he understand their dilema? Did he understand that their every happiness hung in the balance?
Much to Kasey's dismay, their father's look turned quickly to delight and she could see the wheels of evil turning in his head. He turned to roll down the window. Then proceeded to honk the horn and drive in circles around the lot all the while calling at the top of his voice, "THIS IS KADY AND KASEY HEXUM'S VAN, THIS IS KADY AND KASEY HEXUM'S VAN!"
Based on a true story, some facts have been altered to add drama.
An email reply add-on to the story from my sister Kelly:
I drove that same van to Mr. Skwarok's house. The horn got stuck, and I couldn't go in to visit because it was so loud. I had to get back in the van and drive home. That van had only one passenger seat and it belongs to a dog. If you sit in the seat the dog kicks you out and you have to ride on the floor in the back.
Too bad you girls didn't get to experience at an age were it mattered, the 7 seater station wagon with the wood paneling...with a box of pigeons that fly out of their box and poop on you while you're driving down the road.
Or the rambler with no floor below the floor mats...and arriving anywhere mud-drenched after you were late because you were making yourself look good, but on the way a rain puddle came splashing through the hole in the floor and drenches you and your sister. You happened to be in the back because you jumped in in a mad dash. But the mud still reached you in the back seat.
Kady and Kasey Hexum were once young girls who cared what people thought of them. They knew that in order to have true friends they must drive the proper vehicle. They also knew that while they were taking swimming lessons they would need a ride home from their father. (Cue da-da-da-da music for impending doom).
They each had a plan in their own minds, neither thinking to discuss it with the other. Just knowing that when that large blue van, with hundreds of rust spots, each the size of Rhode Island (and coved with a darker blue in spray paint that dripped down the side to the bottom of the van), came into view they must be quick. They heard him approaching before they saw him. Their minds worked quick, they both headed into the parking lot and leaned on some parked cars. Their demeanor was leisurely, but inside their hearts were beating with the sound of a thousand drums. Their father pulled up to the curb shielding them from the eyes of their fellow swimmers.
Relief and sweet release! Unknowingly he had worked it just so, they jumped from their hiding spots and slid the heavy door open and working as a team in consentrated silence they slammed it shut with the strength of 10 men.
Now they ducked and cowered below the windows, Kady taking a spot in the back amoung the dog crates and boxes of rifles, shot guns and homemade-Hal-polished bullets. Kasey not being so lucky as to secure this spot first squeezed herself into the front seat with their dog Tika (her father's definition of a sister). They hoped their friends didn't put two and two together, seeing them one minute leaning on some cars and the next disappeared all together.
Still cowering below the windows, Kasey caught a look from their father. He had a sort of enlightenment in his eye about their situation. Did he understand their dilema? Did he understand that their every happiness hung in the balance?
Much to Kasey's dismay, their father's look turned quickly to delight and she could see the wheels of evil turning in his head. He turned to roll down the window. Then proceeded to honk the horn and drive in circles around the lot all the while calling at the top of his voice, "THIS IS KADY AND KASEY HEXUM'S VAN, THIS IS KADY AND KASEY HEXUM'S VAN!"
Based on a true story, some facts have been altered to add drama.
An email reply add-on to the story from my sister Kelly:
I drove that same van to Mr. Skwarok's house. The horn got stuck, and I couldn't go in to visit because it was so loud. I had to get back in the van and drive home. That van had only one passenger seat and it belongs to a dog. If you sit in the seat the dog kicks you out and you have to ride on the floor in the back.
Too bad you girls didn't get to experience at an age were it mattered, the 7 seater station wagon with the wood paneling...with a box of pigeons that fly out of their box and poop on you while you're driving down the road.
Or the rambler with no floor below the floor mats...and arriving anywhere mud-drenched after you were late because you were making yourself look good, but on the way a rain puddle came splashing through the hole in the floor and drenches you and your sister. You happened to be in the back because you jumped in in a mad dash. But the mud still reached you in the back seat.
1 comment:
Bahahahah! That is soooo Hal! you were so lucky to have a father like him ;P
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