Like a lot of people who live in a small Nebraska farm town like Wayne, I would be hard-pressed to think of how my slice of heaven here could get any better. But it has and, just in time for Father's Day, I have a dad to thank — not my own dad, who was, in fact, the World's Greatest, but the No. 2 World's Greatest, who just happens to be my neighbor.
As the father of three towheaded, red-blooded Midwestern boys, he's very busy. There's school and sports and church and bikes and all the crazy requests. Dad, can we play stuntman and jump off the garage onto a mattress? Can we see what your power saw does to Mom's minivan? Can we light the fence on fire? As you can imagine, I hear my neighbor saying NO a lot.