I never know when the memories will hit, or what will trigger them. A crisp uniform. Well polished shiny shoes.
Most definitely shiny shoes.
There is a technique to polishing shoes. Wipe – Polish – Buff – Shine. Daddy’s little helper was well trained in that.
And when daddy was about to leave to work, it was my responsibility to hand over his applets and badge, and fetch his shoes. And sometimes when I accidentally got my finger prints on the shoes, well that was the time for a quick spit-shine.
Yes, its strange the things that trigger those memories.