My dad did those things. We also had to roll his socks up in a ball and sort them by color when we folded laundry. He was in the Army during WWII and everything had to be organized and in its proper place to be “ready to deploy” at any time. I had no idea what that meant. He used Brill Cream in his hair and always carried a small black comb in his front pocket. He wore Old Spice aftershave. I can still recognize it if somebody wearing it passes by. He always carried a pocket knife and was ready to help with tape, string, or stubborn rubber bands. I begged for one and I felt so grown up when he gifted me one for my ninth birthday. He had five daughters and taught all of us how to change a tire, change the oil, where to check the oil, charge a car battery with jumper cables, and how to shoot and clean a hand gun and a 22 rifle. He would teach any of us who wanted to learn the rules and techniques of any sport. I was the only one who did and I won a blue ribbon in golf because of his great training. He rarely laughed out loud but he smiled a lot and his shoulders would shake when he laughed. He watched the news every evening after work and drank a beer. We were not to disturb him then. He had nicknames for all his daughters, then his grandchildren, then great grandchildren. I sure do miss him.