My father asleep in his younger days, most likely on a weekend morning because he was a GM factory worker and was always up before the crack of dawn. But, before sleeping, he would smoke many cigarettes and then continue that ugly habit all day. As I wrote earlier, his nasty habit killed him eventually because he just couldn't breathe without oxygen. NO issue for him...while living with us and while connected to his oxygen, he would light up a smoke. He never did figure out how we could quickly tell that he was smoking in the house. Somehow, we just never mentioned that smoke travels through the vents in the house and fortunately, he never exploded though we worried every day that he lived with us.
By the way, the end table holding up his ashtray in this ancient photo is in our garage here in Caseville!
My father is the little guy with the grey hair and crossed arms laughing in front. I started writing about him this morning and asked my cousins and sisters if they had any photos of him that I could post and share with you all. Jeanne, named after my mother's sister, Olive Jeanne, found several which she has sent to me. This photo I love because he has, what my mother used to call his "shit eating grin" and it was soooo my father. He was up to NO good so often and had so much fun playing pranks and laughing at and with people. My mother is the woman in the white jacket/bathrobe in the back. She was at least twice my father's size and stood almost a foot taller than he. As a child, I hated to be with them together...everyone knows that the man HAS to be taller than his woman!