I used to tell people my father was a plumber, because that would mean we had a normal life.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I am a plumber. Just a plumber.
I wanted to be a plumber.
I grew up a plumber's son in Philadelphia.
My mother loves to remind me that about the age of four, I made a somewhat formal announcement that I was going to be a plumber when I grew up.
I was from a poor Jewish family in the South Bronx. My father was a plumber, but when I was 16, he got sick and I had to take over. Being a plumber in the South Bronx wasn't fun.
I never planned on being a plumber.
One of the best sleight-of-hand guys I know is a plumber.
My mom was a waitress, and my dad was a plumber who worked for the City of San Clemente fixing mains breaks, so not too glamorous.
My dad was a plumber, and my mom was on and off again, either a stay-at-home mom or working with the disabled as a visiting-nurse assistant.
My father was a motor mechanic, and my mother a homemaker. We moved to Bath when I was four, and so I consider myself a Bathonian.
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