I want to bring my Dad down memory lane this Father's Day with some wood.

You see, back when I was a child I was bad ... kinda like I am now. So one day he took my brother and I out to the garage after we did something bad (I can't remember what we did, probably said something evil to a neighbor).

Anyways ...

We head to garage, he gets out the tool set and starts cutting wood with the electric saw as my brother and I watch with our mouths hanging open.

My dad makes a paddle.

He cuts wind holes in it, paints it garage-floor blue, and once it dried he wrote the "rules" on it. Along with the rules came how many times he would beat our a$$ with the paddle.

Yeah, fear at it's finest.

He never had to use the paddle, I dont' think he had any intention to ... the fear was enough to scare us straight -- at least during my childhood years ;) Love ya Dad!

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