86. It’s Not You, It’s Me
When I got home, my wife asked me to hang some Christmas decorations. I went to my workbench to get a hammer and a torpedo level. The level was missing.
“Brat Boy,” I muttered to myself. How many times had I asked him to put tools back where he got them? What was so hard about putting the level back on the pegboard? When was he going to learn responsibility?
I reached for the hammer. The level was behind it, on a hook where it didn’t belong. I’d put it there when I was in a hurry to clear my workbench.
I remembered my father pushing a lawnmower. A horrible clang had told me he’d found the wrench I’d left in the yard. Brat Boy was way more responsible than I’d been at his age.
Today I won’t blame you until I know it’s not me.
Life on Life's Terms III (c) 2016 by Ken Montrose
Life on Life's Terms III is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.
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