Covert Operations…

My mother called me a few moments ago. It was good to hear her voice.  She sounded quite well and upbeat today.  She had put my sodas on the back porch for the evening.  As I was pulling into the back driveway to my parent’s house, I could see that my father’s Honda was in the driveway.

“Shit,” I muttered very harshly under my breath as I turned down my car stereo in preparation for a stealthy operation. .

I was hoping to avoid my very influential father today.  My father makes me an utter nervous wreck lately for some reason. I guess I am scared of him still after all these years. Dad keeps trying to psychoanalyze me and it is growing tiresome. He asked me the other night what was the hardest most tumultuous event I went though as a child. He wouldn’t like what I had to tell him and I kept it for myself, but it would be of no use to anybody anyway.  Water under the  bridge as they say – go forward or go mingle with the past.  I chose to go forward. Lord knows, I have made quite a few mistakes myself over the years that’s for sure.  I just hope I have the good sense to realize when I am wrong and promptly admit it.

I noticed the backdoor was wide open as I crept up the steps.  I also know dad was hoping to catch me unaware as I came up the steps of the deck. I stealthily grabbed my plastic sack of six sodas and got the hell outta Dodge faster than a greased pig at a county fair.