Thursday, April 28, 2011

From the Introduction

I explained what had happened and that I was in the hospital.

“You burned?” Dad asked.

“No, but I’m not sure why,” I answered.

“Are you going to call home later?”

“Yeah,” I responded.

“Just be real cool when you do,” he instructed.

Dad only worked about a mile from the house and usually came home for lunch every day. I figured he would tell my mother about it then. At about five p.m. that day, when the long distance rates changed, I called them. That’s when I learned that he hadn’t said a word to her. He wasn’t stupid. He knew how she’d react.

She started yelling, “Your father’s been doing this for over twenty years and this never happened to him.” My “yes, but” answers weren’t doing very well. I knew it was worry and concern on her part, but that wasn’t making my explanation any easier. Over the next few phone calls, the volume went down but the butt-chewing continued.

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