What, that you’re afraid of salmonella poisoning?” “Me? Aren’t you a little concerned, too?
Patsy, that’s not the point. The point is, I will not have a coward for a son!
But teaching him to lie?” “Fine. Then just throw them away.
But from now on I expect you to look that little tiger square in the eye, you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.” “Okay, then.” I was off the hook for all of about eight days.
Then there she was again, at seven in the morning, bouncing up and down on our porch with eggs in her hands.
“Hi, Bryce! Here you go.” I tried to look her square in the eye and tell her, No thanks,
but she was so darned happy, and I wasn’t really awake enough to tackle the tiger.
She wound up pushing another carton into my hands, and I wound up ditching them in the kitchen trash
before my father sat down to breakfast. This went on for two years. Two years!
And it got to a point where it was just part of my morning routine.
I’d be on the lookout for Juli so I could whip the door open before she had the chance to knock or ring the bell,
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