my dad

He is very specific. He clings to tradition and comfort and safety and the past. He is really cute that way. He has asked me to fix things for him recently, because I have taught myself to sew. He still uses his laundry bag from college; it is quite a bit shorter now after having me mend it. I fixed his running pants. I don’t mind.

A while back my Dad asked me to make him a replacement money pouch because the one he currently had was breaking. I said sure, whatever Dad and smiled. I hadn’t heard anything about since. I hadn’t heard anything about it until tonight. Tonight my Dad called me. It was loud in the background. It wasn’t cheering, this is Cleveland afterall, and they were at a baseball game. “My money pouch just broke,” my Dad reported. I think it broke opening and closing numerous times for the beer vendor maybe? Rock on, Mom and Dad! I told him to email me some dimensions and I would get right on it. My Dad has a terrible memory. I figured adding beer and a losing baseball game to that would make the chances of him remembering to measure the money pouch slim to none. I freely admit that I WAS WRONG. I got the following email from my Dad not an hour later. I love my Dad for all of his specific quirkiness.

4 inches by 6 inches.
not bulky – fine strong material
Zipper along the 6 in side.
2 and 1/2 inch loop on 4 inch side.
call with questions.
thanks, Daddy

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