David must have been the only kid in America that did not like summer vacation. Every year, between the beginning of June through the end of August, school kids were on vacation. Only to David, summer vacation meant work, work, and more work! His dad was a workaholic. He had two jobs most of the time. He had one job during the day and the other at night, but sometimes he worked on weekends, too. The man had more energy than any persons alive. When he wasn't working on weekends at his third job, he worked at home and that was why David hated summer vacation.
His dad was always building something, or tearing something down. If he wasn't tearing down a wall, or adding a new room to the house, he was putting in a new driveway or garage. It was living hell for a 13-year-old kid. While all of David's friends were off playing baseball or riding their bicycles, he was usually hauling bricks or mixing cement. That's what he remembers about his childhood.
David always knew he was in trouble whenever he heard "Where's David!" His dad's voice seemed to carry down the street. That phrase could only mean it was time to get to work. Of course David learned throughout the years how to make himself disappear at just the right times, but his dad usually found him anyway. "But dad, I want to go to the park to play with my friends," David would say. "You can waste time with your buddies some other time. It's time to get to work now," his dad would respond. It got so bad that David would intentionally fail classes so he would have to go to summer school. Summer school was for students who didn't do well during the regular school year, but he didn't care. It meant less work. It meant freedom!
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