Dad! Did you ever own a ’94 LeMans?

What?

Did you own a ’94 LeMans?

Yeah.

When?

After you got out of college.

So why do you still have the receipt for an oil change from 1998?

What?

You’ve got a whole box of receipts labeled, “Buick LeMans.” Every oil change, tune up and, looks like tire rotation. Why do you have this?

Don’t worry about it.

I’m going to shred the whole box.

I might need those.

Dad, do you still own this car?

No.

When did you sell it?

I didn’t sell it.

Well, it’s not in the garage.

I traded it.

For what?

The Park Avenue.

The…Dad, you haven’t had the Park Avenue for six years.

I know that.

Is there a box in here labeled “Park Avenue” too?

Don’t worry about it.

Dad, you’ve got a room full of boxes and each box is full of paper. How am I supposed to know what’s important and what’s junk?

Just leave it.

I mean, look. Here’s your tax returns from 1978.

Well, if I ever get audited…

Dad, even the IRS says you only have to keep returns for seven years.

Leave it alone.

And look…you’ve still got your text books from when you got your masters degree.

Yeah?

Dad. I was twelve years old when you got that degree. Don’t you think these might be slightly out of date?

Don’t worry about it. Leave them alone.

Dad…it’s just…How am I supposed to know what’s important and what’s not?

How old are you?

What?

How old are you?

Fifty two.

If you don’t know what’s important by now, then I’ve done a lousy job of raising you.

No. Dad…I mean…

Don’t worry about it.

But how will I know? Who will I call? What if I make a mistake? I need you to be there so I can ask you.

Well. I won’t be. You’re going to have to make it on your own.

I don’t want to.

I know. It’s going to be hard. You’ll be okay. You’ll do fine.