You drank it on sweltering Saturdays after a hard day of work.
Not your regular job, but just around the house.
You took care of the yard, the house, the car.
You taught us things we didn’t know we’d need to know.
When the work was done, the grill was lit.
The beer was cracked, and we basked in the dusty haze of the July evening heat.
Thanks for the good times, Dad.