 Dennis, what was wrong with your father's foot? Oh, nothing. He stepped in a bucket of cement. Oh, for heaven's sake. Look, kid. I can understand your father stepping in a bucket of cement. I can almost understand him standing there and letting the cement dry. But why? I mean, why would he keep it on his foot for six months? Well, my mother made him. What? When he stayed out late at night, he couldn't tiptoe into the house...