“Over what?”
“Stuff that seemed important one day and not so important the next.”
“Be specific.”
“I don’t know. I’d lose track of time working on the car and be late picking her up after work. I’d lose track of time working on the car and forget to go to work. She had a good point there.” I saw my father as the most responsible man on the planet, so I found what he was saying really hard to believe. “I was always forgetting something.” Dad took half of one of my three potatoes. “I wasn’t baked yet, your mother would say. Luckily, she gave me time to finish.” Dad’s enjoyable chewing noises were comical. “Let me throw this out there. You remember when you won the school spelling bee in fifth grade?”
“And then tanked in the first round at the regional round? M-i-s-c-h-i-e-v-i-o-u-s. Mischiev-I-ous. I still say either spelling is allowed. Yeah. Vaguely.”