I wasn’t a perfect father.
Emily noticed before I did.
« Dad, Nora ate dry cereal for dinner again, » she said one evening, dropping her backpack by the door.
« Again? »
« Her grandma thought it was breakfast, » Emily said softly. « She got confused when Nora corrected her. »
I looked toward the window. « Ask Nora if she wants spaghetti. »
« She’ll say no because she thinks it’s an inconvenience. »
« Dad, Nora ate dry cereal for dinner again. »
« Then tell her I made too much. »
Emily nodded. « You always make too much. »
Continue on the next page:
