“Because you told me to.”
My first response got me a stern but somewhat gentle smack upside my bald head. A half hour later, I went with, “Because I got in a fight?” But that didn’t cut it either, maybe because of the juvenile tone. I tried, “Because I broke a bunch of rules?” next time, and though I was more contrite, that answer still didn’t work. When my dad returned again late in the afternoon, I didn’t wait to be asked. “Because I threw away an opportunity I should have appreciated more.”
That one did it. Four hours in, I was finally sprung, let off on parole.
“I love you, Son.” Dad hugged me and then rubbed the spot on the back of my head, long since soothed. “Go to your room. No computer. No TV. Read a book.”
Cal called three times that evening. I wasn’t allowed to speak with hi
