Taking A Break

I'm taking a break from my current tedious task to talk about the joys of my dad.
My dad is Archie Bunker, Homer Simpson, and Al Bundy all rolled into one joyous package.
When my sister and I were little, he would take the eraser off of our pencils, "because you shouldn't be making mistakes", and we weren't allowed to use calculators because it was considered "cheating".
My dad LOVES music, the Stones, the Beatles anything from 'his era'. So one of my fond memories of my dad is when he got home one night from work. He wanted to relax and listen to some CCR. But when he got to the stereo cabinet he discovered that my sister, a mere 3 at the time, had decided that his tape looked lovely and wanted to take a closer look. So, she pulled all of it out. Now, dad was never much of a yeller or a hitter. He was a hair puller (his own, probably why he is balding today) and a teeth gritter. So while he was cursing under his breath you could almost see the steam rolling out of his ears. My sister and I were bracing ourselves for something, anything. That's when it happened...
He picked up a dining room chair and...bashed it into the wall.
And it was over, just like that.
For the next few weeks before he got around to patching the hole in the wall, (better than my sisters head) my sister started taking upon herself to "patch" it herself.
Anything she thought would fit into the hole went into it...parts of her sandwich, her dolls bottle, Barbie shoes.
I wonder if the people who bought our house ever took down that wall and found a little time capsule of yuck?