My long-time readers might recall the introduction of the pine cone. If you don’t remember, or haven’t had the pleasure of reading about it, you can find the story here. In my last pine cone entry, I left the pine cone in my dad’s work boot. I have some catching up to do.
I went back to Austin in April for my Dad’s 60th birthday and my dad was super sneaky. I left Austin on Wednesday morning and when I opened my make-up bag on Thursday morning, there was the pine cone. Oh, you’re good, Dad.
I went home for Memorial Day weekend to float the river with some friends. While there, I put the pine cone inside a sock in my dad’s sock drawer.
In June, my sisters, Katelyn and I participated in our 2nd Annual Great-Granny-A-Thon. My parents met us in Houston on our first night. They left that night for Beaumont to visit my dad’s parents. The next day, we drove to Kroger where my Granny paid to fill up my gas tank. I pulled the lever in my car to open the gas tank and got out to remove the gas cap. What do I see in my gas tank? The pine cone. My dad put the pine cone in my gas tank.
I called my dad and my mom answered the phone:
Me (panicked): Mom? Can I talk to dad?
Mom: Yeah, one second.
Me (panicked): Dad?
Dad: Yeah, what’s wrong?
Me: Well, we’re at Kroger right now trying to get some gas and I tried to open my gas tank and it won’t open. What do I do?
Dad: Well, it might be because of the heat. Wait a couple of minutes and then try again.
Me: Okay. Do you think there might be something stuck in there?
Dad (not remembering that he put something in there): No, no. Just be patient.
Me: Okay… so you don’t think there might be A FREAKING PINE CONE IN THERE?!?!?!?
Dad (Laughing hysterically): Oh man! HAHAHAHAHA! That’s funny right there! I don’t care who you are, that’s funny right there!
My parents came to Dallas the next week for a conference my mom was having. We went to this great place in Old Town Coppell called Hard Eight BBQ to celebrate Father’s Day in addition to Dave’s birthday. My parents left Dave’s gift in the car and I had the pine cone with me, so I offered to run out to the car to get it for them. I’m such a great daughter. While in the car, I slipped the pine cone in my dad’s bag.
My sister, Kristen, came home last weekend with a gift from my dad, for me, Ali and Pita. I opened up the bag to find 3 pine cones, all different sizes. He said the size went with each girl by height – Ali got the small one, I got the medium one, and Pita got the big one. Apparently, he found them somewhere in nature (not store-bought), but he won’t give up his secret. The original pine cone is still on top of his dresser. The picture below is my pine cone.