Great way to grow up, too! We lived in a huge old building that used to be a hotel; Dad remodeled the upstairs into a 4 bedroom apartment, the store downstairs, meat department in the back end, the smokers right under our bedrooms - don't know how many winter mornings I'd wake up and couldn't see the door of the bedroom the smoke would be so thick (chimney right next to our upstairs bedroom windows that had caulk missing on the panes, I'd wake up sometimes with snow on my if there was a blizzard the night before). From doing returnable bottles to oiling the hardwood floor and sweeping it down with sawdust to hanging beef or stockinett'ing hams, getting poked by bacon hooks all linked together trying to hang bellies, cleaning the smokehouse (dad used to lower me down into it and scrape like crazy with butcher block scrapers). I worked for him full time out of high school and one of the least fond memories was staying out 'til 5am, drunk as a skunk and the door locked so I fell asleep on the porch, the mat as my pillow, from 5-6 when he came out, kicked me in the ribs, said 'C'mon, got work to do.." and went to work at 6:30... had to get down on my hands and knees and scrape the cement floor in the drip room for hours.. I thought I was gonna die...