My parents drove an 18 wheeler until I was 11. I lived with my grandparents mostly but did go on the truck with them a lot. My Dad was funny and liked to joke with people. It wasn't until they quit long haul trucking that I was taken from my grandparents who I dearly loved. With him home all the time, he gave me a tough time about grades, friends, etc. During my high school years I hated him. I was never good enough(he really wanted a boy). It wasn't until many years later that I learned a lot about his upbringing to let me he didn't know how to parent. His on parents were not good ones. And learned more about what he went through during WWII. As I got older I realized he really did love me and always had my back. He died 4 years ago and I miss him a lot.