Before bedtime, we sat on dad’s lap and he made up stories for us.
Sometimes he played the harmonica... he learned to play it in the army. He was my hero.
I used to love Golden Books. One of the best was The Train to Timbuctoo. My dad would read this to me at bedtime and I would make sure he didn't skimp on the sound effects which occurred throughout the story. It had lines like "Throw in the clutch and pull out the throttle" and I would ask where these were in the illustration of the train cab. Then I would ask what was this lever? and so on. He tried to explain that he really couldn't say because it was just an illustration.
