Home Service

Every Sunday, I hope that maybe this week, Dad will forget. There is no room in the social contract of the house for me to decline participating in service. Some Sundays, I get lucky. Other Sundays, I can put it off until late, and beg off being tired. Sometimes, I can say I feel sick, and that works. Every time, I get a disappointed look from my dad; it is hard to tell if he is disappointed, or…