In reading Mr. Leap's book about Runnemede, he mentioned Mr. DiCecco. Mr. DiCecco was the town tailor, and his shop was on the Pike between Pitt's Drug Store and Weber's Bakery. It was a tiny shop. And if it was tiny when I was tiny, it must really have been tiny.
I don't recall whether Mr. D sold new suits in his shop, but I do remember going in with my father on one occasion when dad was having his trousers altered. Not the pair he was wearing, but another pair.
Well, Mr. DiCecco seeing me with my father, told me to wait in the outside area of the shop and not go behind the curtain where he was going to measure my father for the alterations to his pants. My dad would have none of that and told Mr. D: "She's my daughter, it's okay if she comes back with me." I don't' think Mr. D was very happy about that. I guess he though that if I saw my dad in his scivvies I'd be morally corrupted or something.
Come on! We lived in a house with one bathroom, and at that time two bedrooms. It was a home where there was little privacy, and daddy didn't get entirely dressed in the bathroom. I had seen my father in his undies on more occasions than I could remember, even at the age of 6 or 7.
Needless to say, Mr. D completed his measurements in record time, saving me from being corrupted, I suppose, not that I was even caring about my dad being in a partial state of undress. I was too busy reading a new comic book.
It didn't keep daddy from going down to Mr. D's shop. I went with him on several more forays into that store.
I loved Runnemede!