Thinking back
I had a thought here at work about my childhood. Not sure why, but I’m going to write it down before I forget it.
My dad has always been a smoker. I think since he was 16 (he’s 63 now). Anyhow, I always remembered that when we were in the car, he’ll never smoke because it bothered my mom and me. However, every so often when my parents would get into an argument or have a fight about something, my dad would get mad and then he’d roll the window down and light one up. We never really said anything because he was mad and after that one smoke, he’ll be fine.
It was really weird, since I’ve been in constant contact with cigarettes since I was born. My grandfather smoked, my dad smokes, my uncles smoke but I never had the urge to. Odd that I never felt the need to huh?