My birthday was last week, so my parents took me and my husband to dinner last night. The check arrived in a small ornamental box. My dad grabbed it.
“What’s inside?” my mom asked.
“It’s Striper,” my dad said.
Striper is my cat, who died when I was 21. Her ashes sit on the fireplace mantel at their house, in a small ornamental box.
He is so funny and endearing in his own way, my dad.