One fifteen in the afternoon of a hot July day, David scampered up the rickety old ladder carrying a six pack of Coors beer. His brother, Allen, was brushing on shamrock green paint over the old shake shingles, spied the beer, “I thought you were going after iced tea,” he said.

David, carefully stepping from one safety slat to another, tossed his brother a can of beer. “Think about, brother, where would I find iced tea?”

Allen popped open his beer and drank it down. “Whew,” he said, " sure goes down easy in this heat."

“Ready for another?” David said.

Within forty minutes the boys had downed the six pack. They noticed they really didn’t need the safety slats, as they gamboled around, slopped paint down on the dry shingles. David, using a rag to wipe his hands, noticed how sticky it was becoming. Walking to the edge of the roof he gave it a sling; too late he noticed that the can of paint he was holding went sailing with the rag onto the driveway.

Their dad never asked them to paint again.