Food For The Homeful

(My dad is 71 years old. He does not act like it. He frequently helps my sisters and me move regardless of when we’re going, cleans, works out, drives, and owns 3 homes. He has just helped my sister clean her apartment for her lease ending. He is dressed in jeans and an old dirty pair of sweats. He orders chili from a fast food restaurant on the way back to his house, eats it, then decides to get some to bring home to my mother.)

Dad: “Can I get one more bowl of chili, please?”

Server: “One moment, sir.” *whispers something to manager on duty* “Don’t worry about it, sir; it’s free of charge.” *gives him a sympathetic look*

(My dad drives away and later relays this story while I was visiting.)

Me: “Dad, I think they thought you were homeless and were doing a good deed.”

Dad: “They were. I’ll always take free food!”