In preparation for annual house inspection, we are stripping and waxing the floors. I am reminded of a day over three decades ago: I was a very young produce clerk at Kroger. My father comes in to buy groceries for fire station #14 just down the street where he is assigned.

I am so proud to see him in his uniform and for him to see me working my first "real" job, but a little embarrassed that he happens in while I am mopping the floor.

"Ah, nothin' wrong with that," he tells…