“Dad, this is the
thing...”
Kevin had a feeling of
foreboding when he heard this from his son. He was the Dad, he was supposed to
be in charge, yet here he was at the kitchen table facing what looked to him
very much like a pair of parole judges in teen garb. He had the fleeting notion
he should have acquired the services of a good lawyer. They were smiling
indulgently at him, too. Was this a ploy to get him to lower his defenses so
they could go in for the kill?
“ You’re the best Dad
anyone could have,” Lydia started.
“ You were my coach
for almost all my little league teams and you’re at all my football games,”
Jimmy said.
“You came to my dance
recitals and concerts and even took me to girl scouts”
“And you never
complain when we have our friends over.”
There was a pause. This
wasn’t a bad start, Kevin thought, but what else was coming? He had to ask.
“But...?”
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