I can do more with my pinky finger than you can do with your whole body.

My dad was the most amazing man. A father of 3 girls and 3 boys. He worked most of his life during the night shift at the local chicken processing plant. The live room, actually. His job was to take the chickens from the cages and hang them by their necks on the machine that then shocked them before cutting their heads off. By all accounts of his co-workers he was the hardest working man in the plant. He was a supervisor who would step in for those who were out sick rather than lean on the other workers to pick up the slack. I visited him once at work and he showed me what happened in the processing of chicken. It created in me a profound appreciation for the chicken and those who had the dirty job of getting them ready for my plate. Anyway, the chicken plant wasn't what made my dad so amazing. It's what he did when he came home from work that keeps me in awe. He would get a fire going in our fireplace before getting us kids up for school. He would have biscuits hot and ready for breakfast. He slept while we were at school but was up by the time we came in. When we arrived home from school he was working on the car or in the garden, or on the house. If we had baseball, basketball, or softball he would take us all to practice or our games. My dad was to me "Super Man". How he did all the things he did is purely a result of what he never did. Watch t.v. and spend hours on the computer. He could do more with his pinky than most people could do with their whole body. He worked his body. He used it. He was so tired. His was the first early morning phone call.