My older brother sent me this story about when we were kids in Chicago, going for a drive on those hot summer days before we got air conditioning for the house. Thanks for the memory, John!
“Being in the car, Dad driving us for a ride, us angling on how we could squeeze a couple of dawgs out of him, EVEN if it meant getting whipped. That was just the price we had to pay.
Now you, owning and operating a stand, and eating a hotdog whenever you want? HEAVEN!
I remember when you became a woman. On our way to Carl’s and you asking for 2 dawg’s. I was stunned by Dad saying Yes??? Of course I lobbied hard against you, that you couldn’t hang with two dawgs, joining the exclusive club that Dad and I belonged to….but you grew up.”
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Amazing what a good hot dog does for the soul.