Dad's Big White #2 Baby! ;

This is a little memory I wrote for school a while back! ;) I just thought I would share it with all of you! ;)

I remember it; I remember Dad's big white 1977 Chevy truck. With a red bed which carried our motorcycles, giant bright headlights and door handles to high for one so little as me to reach. Dad helps me into the middle seat, and with all of us buckled, Dad sat on  my left and my big bro Joe my right. The sound of the large chevy engine starts up and we pull away. Joe and I eat our church donuts while Dad held on to the red steering wheel spinner. Sitting in the red and white middle seat, I was the one who got to change the radio stations to some good old classic rock. Dad sings in his deep voice with his thick hungarian accent. With the wind blowing my soft blonde hair wildly, I look up at him and admire the sound of his voice, the voice I thought I would never forget. I reach into the red glove compartment and pull out the tattoo zebra gum, a piece for Dad and one for Joe too. Barley tall enough to see over the dash board, I struggle to see the yellow line fly by. The smell of that chevy truck and Dad's cologne left me as my Dad easily lifted me up and out of the truck, and set me on the cold red tail gate. #2 Baby, that was her name, the name of the big white truck, that's what Dad said. He said it was cuz I was #1. I was his #1 Baby. I miss that old #2 Baby, the big guy who drove it and the voice I thought I would never forget.
:)