A fabulous conversation about fatherhood with the guy who towed my car this morning

Of course, I already forgot his name (not Jim, which was stenciled on the tow truck and probably was the catalyst leading me to space his name in the first place). He has three daughters , youngest 17 so he's run the gauntlet. He quips about keeping his gun collection near the front door to greet any of the "gentlemen" who come calling on his daughters. He jokingly tells me of the only time he ever actually used it on some shady character: "So... what kinda lead do you want, case anything happens to my daughter? .357? 9mm? .22?" His wife freaks: "You can't say that to someone! That's a threat!" to which he calmly replies: "Now dear, I was only asking this young man a question..."

Hilarious and well-told. This guy's worked in Mason County as a tow truck driver for over twenty years and spoke well of parenthood, showed me pictures of his children and spoke about his marriage to his wife and the difference between being a father or mother and being a parent, fully present and attentive. He talked about the families he and his wife came from, the joys of fatherhood over the long haul and wished me luck. Firm hand shake and a gleam in the eyes. I feel lighter as I make the trek back to my house as his truck lumbers down the drive with my green Volvo station wagon, Puff, skirt in the air, nose to the gravel, rumbling along behind.

I give him a good recommendation when the phone rings asking if the truck's arrived and done the job but neglect to ask his name due to twins shrieking and gnawing on my ankles.