The Seven Bratwurst
My family enjoyed many festivals when I was a kid. We knew the drill: sit with Mom at the picnic table while Dad went in search of food.
At one festival, Dad came to our table balancing 7 bratwurst on a plate. He began to pass out the feast when suddenly he froze. “Wait, give me those back. I forgot to pay for them!”
Later, after all was settled, I (an annoyingly curious child) grilled my dad about what had happened. How in the world could he forget to pay? How come no one stopped him? What did they say when he came back?
Simply put, Dad had turned left when he should have turned right when exiting the bratwurst tent and completely missed the cashier table. There was a crowd. No one noticed. They were very thankful to him for coming back, and they even shared a laugh about it.
“But, if no one noticed, and no one would ever know,” I pointed out, “you could have gotten these for free!”
“Probably,” he replied. “But, that wouldn't be right.”
That wouldn't be right.
How about that? After all the lecturing and lessons he tried to teach me throughout the years, only four words actually sunk in (and still stick)... when he hadn't even meant to teach me anything.
Happy Father's Day, Dad. You did good.
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