RaisingDad

I was probably a pretty rambunctious kid, because I remember my Dad always after me for one thing or another.      When I was a Senior in high school, and prone to staying out late on a Friday or Saturday night, my Dad would always make it a point to get me up early the next day.      "Why do I need to get up early?" I'd ask him.      "Because everything has a price," he'd tell me.      I'm sure he was trying to teach me something, but it was something I didn't want to learn, so, after a few early mornings of me getting up to do nothing but learn a lesson, the only lesson I learned was that if I got out of bed so he could see me, and then, when he went inside, immediately laid down on the floor of the far side of my bed, the side facing away from my bedroom door, so that he couldn't see me, then I could happily spend the rest of the morning in dreamland. ...

The next day (yesterday) I was having my noon cup of coffee. I was wearing a baseball cap that has a light in front for hiking. I had all the drapes and shutters closed. No one could peak in, but then neither could the sun, and I also had all the lights in the kitchen and great room turned off. Only the little light in the front of my cap was on. It was on dim. In my mind I could hear the theme music to Mission: Impossible.      I could barely see the newspaper I was reading, when something outside caught my eye. I see my Dad looking out his front door. His front door is actually a back door. He lives in a little in-law house that's located just in front of the main house, so his front (back) door faces directly to the french doors that lead into our kitchen. It's not as confusing as it sounds.      He looks straight at me. I can see him through the space between the shutters, but can he see me ? I'm in the back of the kitchen, which is actually...