This is what happens when you buy a house 3 miles from your parents' (formerly your grandparents') house:
I'm filling up at the station right up the road from the house, and the guy filling up the truck in the next bay over starts talking to me. The Bug attracts a fair bit of attention - you don't see too many passenger cars around here that take diesel.
So we're chit-chatting, and then he says "Pardon me, but you look like you have some [last name] in you."
I giggled. I get a lot of "[last name]? Do you know [other person with my last name?]" but this is the first time someone's looked at me and figured out who I belong to.
"Yes, sir, that's me. Who do you know?"
"I went to school with [aunt and uncle], and I know [dad]."
I'm rolling by this point. "Yes, sir, I'm [dad]'s daughter."
Turns out he's good friends with one of dad's cousins, and helps run one of the farms (that makes killer sausage), on the next farm over. I'm still chuckling, many hours later.