In 1989 Daughter #1, already in her third year of undergraduate study at Case-Western Reserve University, didn’t have enough money to buy her father a really nice Christmas gift, the kind she felt he deserved. Rather than give him something bought with money ultimately given by him, she wanted a gift that was truly from her. What could she give him that would mean something special, yet not cost much money? Here’s what she came up with. It’s been one of his favorite gifts ever since.
Expensive-ist Isn’t Always Best-est <ul><li>The most memorable gifts, the ones you usually remember the longest, aren’t always the ones that cost the most money. </li></ul><ul><li>Like this favorite of Hubby’s. </li></ul>
In Papa’s world . . . Dogs enjoy having their ears tied together. <ul><li>We could never convince him that our small dog, a Bishon Frieze we called Charlie, did not love having his ears tied together . . . </li></ul>
In Papa’s World . . . Mama secretly likes electric kisses. <ul><li>Or that Mama didn’t really like electric kisses—planted on her neck when she wasn’t looking—nearly as much as he liked doing it . . . </li></ul>
In Papa’s World . . . A suit never costs more than $100. <ul><li>When he first came to this country, you could still buy a man’s suit (or a 2-piece slacks and jacket to pose as one) for just under a hundred dollars If you got them on sale, which we invariably did. He vowed never to pay more than $100 for a suit—ever! As Martha Stewart would say, that was a good thing. The bad thing is that it ruined his sense of what clothes really cost. </li></ul>
In Papa’s World . . . Shoes cost $7.99. They used to cost $3.99, but Papa succumbed to inflation. <ul><li>For a man who grew up basically barefoot or in chappels (an Indian sandal) it would take many, many years before he would be convinced one pair of shoes could be better than another, regardless of how much…or how little…it cost! </li></ul>
In Papa’s World . . . Scrambled eggs should NOT be soft or runny. <ul><li>He always made breakfast for the family on Saturdays. It was usually pancakes and a side of scrambled eggs he insisted on cooking until they were completely dry, not fluffy and moist the way Mama did it. </li></ul>
In Papa’s World . . . The Rabbit doesn’t need a new horn. <ul><li>One year the little VW Rabbit seemed to have a problem with its horn. No matter how hard you hit or pressed it, it could only go “ah—oo—ga.” </li></ul><ul><li>“ It’s against the law to drive a car without a working horn,” we insisted. </li></ul><ul><li>Only when the ah—oo—ga became a weak gasp, did he finally agree to have a new horn installed! </li></ul>
In Papa’s World . . . Weeds always grow up to be trees. <ul><li>It wasn’t that he was too lazy to pull the weeds—he was just trying to grow a little shrubbery/trees in our backyard completely devoid of trees when we moved in. Sixteen years later when we moved away, the backyard was a veritable jungle of common olive and mulberry trees that attracted birds of all kinds. </li></ul>
In Papa’s World . . . Little girls should not walk unattended in the mall. <ul><li>This was a practice he was reluctant to give up even after they went away to college. </li></ul>
In Papa’s World . . . You don’t go to heaven, you go to Hawaii. <ul><li>And we’re glad he liked to go to Hawaii … but even gladder that he liked taking us along too … </li></ul>
But the best thing about Papa’s World is . . . We’re the most important part of it! <ul><li>Nothing could be more true! It’s why we more or less let him pretend to tie puppy dog ears into knots, sneak electric kisses, keep thinking there is such a thing as a hundred dollar suit, $6.99 shoes, think mulberry trees are not going to take over the world, yada yada yada . . . </li></ul>
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