This time dad muttered under his breath as we were waiting for a table that "I hope I can get a word in edgewise this lunch date" I chuckled to myself and then offered my dad a sincere apology. "Dad...I know mom and I prattle on and on about stuff and sometimes we completely forget to include you in the conversation...I'm sorry dad" My dad was forgiving as usual and said he didn't mind...he understood and knew how close we were, but he did want to pick up where we left off on memories of his family. I was smiling inside because this whole idea has really lit a fire in my dad's heart and I can see that he really enjoys our time together.
I'm not sure how we got on the subject of my parents first home but we landed there and I went with it. Dad said after he came home from the Navy he went to school to become a mechanic and my mom was finishing up nursing school. They bought their first home in San Bruno, California on 333 Mastick Avenue for a whopping $9,000. A mortgage of $65 a month, my parents began their American Dream. I can still remember the house myself. Distinct memories of the 2 bedroom 1 bath floorplan that was nestled in what they called the sweetheart neighborhood. Named after the heartshaped pattern that made up the new development, our house had a white picket fence and was at the top of a pretty steep hill. Our neighbor, Ben, was an immaculate man and kept his lawn manicured to a golf course green status. My dad had countless encounters with "the grouchy old man" who lived next door. Most of these encounters consisted of Ben complaining about something and my dad becoming defensive and protective of his young family. It is funny the things you remember from childhood. I do remember Ben, and I remember the steep hill that ran past his house. We had so much fun riding in our our radio flyer wagon down that hill at light speed. No wonder the old guy was grouchy. I'm sure we encroached on his pristine lawn a time or too. ;)
Our meal came in a timely manner and we enjoyed amazing pasta and yummy breadsticks. I ordered the manicotti, my favorite, and my dad took notice. He mentioned that his favorite manicotti was from a place called Frank's Italian Restaurant in Milbrae, California. I'm not sure that it is still there, but I would like to try it some time if it is. For dessert my dad ordered...you guessed it...cheesecake! Poor dad, he is still in search of that perfect cheesecake. I wonder if he will ever find it? I do know one thing...the search has been a blast:)
Mom ordered an Alfredo pasta pictured above. 
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