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YORE LITTLE GIRL!


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My father in law and I had a talk this morning.

He recently lost his wife; he's getting used to life as a widower -- if there is such a thing, after losing your life's partner of better than six decades -- he's had to rearrange multiple legal matters, and I figured he could use some good news.

I told him I expected a letter from the bank in about a week:  once I received it, I'd sign it, take it to the local branch, get a certified check for just over three hundred Razbukniks, and ship it back, and about a month after, I would get the letter of congratulations, on having satisfied our home mortgage.

I paid off the mortgage, as far as the laptop would let me; there are always junk fees at the end, punitive measures because I'm paying off a decade early.

He was most pleased.

I thanked him for the card he'd sent, and its contents; it came just in time, I said, for I intended to take my beautiful bride out for a celebratory dinner tonight, this is our 24th wedding anniversary.

I admitted that I'd felt terribly sober the day we were married, for it was on that moment I realized the full responsibility of being a married man:  I told him that I as much as looked him in the eye, and said I would take care of, and provide for, YOUR LITTLE GIRL.

My father in law said that I scored an A in that category, and that made me feel pretty good.

Of course something always has to go wrong ...

We had dinner out when we got married, we were too full to partake of Chocolate Mouse Cake (or Moose Cake, whatever it was ... it was chocolate and I remember that at least!) -- but when we got back home, that rascally cake JUMPED out of my hand, did a one-and-a-half with  twist and burned into the pavement, kersplat.

Tonight, at Texas Road House, I was wearing a brand new suit jacket ... and managed to drag my coat sleeve through the marshmallow stuff on top of that loaded sweet potato, and got a long streak of it down my lapel ... can't take me anywhere ...

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Glad to hear on both counts. My father-in-law passed in 2008. I miss him every day, and hope I do right by his little girl and his granddaughters.

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Boy this brought back a ton of memories, but one in particular sticks in my mind.  At the entrance to the church, just as we were about to get into the limo, my new father-in-law gave me a bear hug and whispered one word in my ear:  "Cuidamela"  

In Spanish that roughly translates to: "Take good care of her for me".

I tried my best for 52 1/2 years.

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