An old memory popped in for hello.

Growing up, my father was an atheist (now theist). He would tell my sister and I that there were no gods or monsters, only people. Though he did say that Satan was real, and that he was it. Luckily we had the privilege of being Satan's daughters. Something we would joke about to friends.

He was also a firefighter/paramedic (now retired). He drove his personal vehicles the same way he drove his ambulance-- like the roads were created specifically for him. Should anyone disagree, they would naturally face with the structurally intimidating superiority of his V6 caravan, with all of us flopping about like marbles in the cargo bay. The turbulence of an airplane would be jealous.

If we should ask where we were going while he drove like a bat out of hell, his answer was almost always: "To heaven if we're careful". Then turn to us with a crooked grin and laugh, maniacally. Our objections to this answer as insufficient were always overruled. "Heaven" was someplace exciting that we would just have to guess about until we arrived.

If we made it to our destination safely (and that's a big IF), we were rewarded with trinkets from the sweets and toy shops. Which, looking back, was an obvious wink for us to stay quiet about any acquired bumps and scrapes to someone else back home who Satan apparently feared.

A bag full of tootsies and mallows were enough to keep our lips sealed.

Thanks for the laughs, dad. I still keep the number to my therapist close by in your honor.