So on Friday, I asked my dad if I could go to work with him and help out.
HE SAID YES!
I got my tennis-shoes, skinny jeans, dad's oversized Jacksonville Jaguars shirt, and his insulated blue jean jacket on and we headed out before sun rise.
This is my dad:
I bagged all the debris in those black bags and loaded this trailer.
I learned about simplex nails and the difference between those and normal nails. I learned that this black siding is called felt. I spent a while hanging the felt on the front of the house. I also learned how to swing a hammer properly. Who knew there was so much art to this stuff.
I learned about Skil saws and hydraulic jacks. I took a door off of it's frame with a cordless drill and re-hung it after its length was altered. I worked around air compressors, nail guns... It was a dream!
It was funny because apparently my dad is in charge of the entire project. I didn't realize this at all. I asked one of the crew members who was in charge and they said, "If you want to do anything, you've got to ask Gary." I made a point not to mention that I was his daughter. I figured the crew may treat me differently. The crew for that day was made up of folks that were my age and younger.
Dad is quite the boss. He is super direct and perhaps a little harsh. At times, the other workers would look at me, and we would commiserate. Unfortunately, at one point, dad came around the corner yelling at me for something I wasn't doing right, and I yelled across the yard, "I got it, Daddy! I can see the nails!"
My cover was blown.
