My adopted father showed up in my driveway in 1968, I think. He was driving a light blue volkswagen bug. As he turned into the driveway, his car got hit by a city road truck.
I remember the old "smudge-pot" markers that day, they were working on the road.
Anyway, his VW busted down the front of our house.
My brothers and I were all over it, seeing what had happened.
He adopted us anyway.
Or maybe we adopted him, I forget.
Anyway, Dad made it work.
Thanks for sharing that story. While my real Dad is alive and well and much beloved, I too have an unofficially "adopted" father very dear to me.