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My father tells me stories of his childhood and likes to repeat them on an almost daily basis. Apparently he used to be a badass gangster who fought everyone on his street. Story #1 Once when he was in kindergarten, he accidently dropped his sandal into a pond. Being a tiny kid, the pond was too deep for him. There was a tall boy who was near him at the time, so he demanded the boy to retrieve the sandal. The boy wouldn't do it, so he grabbed his sandal and threw it into the pond too. Unfortunately that boy's sandal floated, and in the end my father was told on, and scolded by the teacher. Story #2 During lunch time at school, a boy in the class had an apple. My father and his friend were hungry, so they plotted and tricked the boy into a closet, stole his apple, and threatened him not to tell anyone. Story #3 There was a barber who always yelled, "Haircut for five cents!" on the street. Everytime my father walked by, the barber would ask, "Hey little boy, want a haircut?" to which my father would say no. He hadn't cut his hair for a while and it was growing past his ears. One day, probably to his annoyance, the barber grabbed him, and seated him on a chair. My father ran away, and the aftermath is unknown (I forgot). To be continued. |