God, when I first saw this I thought it was me on the makeup tongs. That's about the time I started on a rig floor and it was not long after that I was throwing a spinning chain.
But I died laughing when I read the caption. If my dad told me to get him a 5/8ths open end and I brought back a 3/4...I'd get a... "goddamit, I said 5/8ths!! " If brought back the wrong tool three times in one day, or turned a valve the wrong way, once, it was "goddamit, just go get in the truck. Which I would promptly do until he'd come get me and we'd start over. I loved my dad but he was a hard ass.
We use to stop at Mr. Brown's little gas store on the farm to market road for a Nehi orange soda. Man, it'd be so cold you thought your teeth were gonna crack. If you drank it too fast you could get the orange soda nose fizzies. Then I'd start laughing, and dad would start laughing at orange soda running out my nose and down my chin. It'd be cool driving down the highway with the windows down and air vents pointed just right, drinking cold orange soda. For a moment on a hot August day in Texas, all was right with the world.