“Alan!” Margaret called. “Can you take Don and Charlie to the playground?”

“I’m busy,” Alan called. “Can’t you?” he asked.

“I’m making supper and was hoping you could take them,” Margaret replied, drying her hands on the dishtowel. “Don asked, and I told him you could take him.”

“But I’m busy!” Alan said angrily as he typed some on the computer. “I don’t understand what you can’t see about doing to tomorrow, Don,” he said, noticing the boy coming into the room.

Don kicked the wall. “Have you ever thought about this, Dad? You take Charlie everywhere. School, tutors – you don’t want him to ride the bus. I can’t walk to the playground because it’s two miles away, but Charlie can go anywhere he wants!”

“Don, this is not the best time -,” replied Alan, but Don interrupted him.

“Do you know where he went the other day -“ Don started. He kicked the wall before finishing. “He went to the wrong end of town. The train tracks. Look, I’m mad, okay? You always have time for Charlie, but you never have time for me!”

“That’s not true!” Alan protested, clenching his fists, not realizing he sounded more like a two-year-old then an adult.

“Yes, it is!” Don said, grabbing his bat. “You always have time for tutors and practice, but I have to walk to the park for my practice, never mind that I can’t go there any other time I want to. You always go to Charlie’s math competitions, but you never have time for my ballgames. You and Mom are going to send him to MY high school but you don’t care that I don’t like that idea!” Don ran outside in anger.

Alan sighed. “He doesn’t understand -“ he started to protest, but Margaret stopped him.

“Alan…” she said, “he’s right.”

“What do you mean?”

“You never go to his ballgames,” Margaret said, “and you never help him with school. It’s either work or Charlie – I haven’t seen you do something with Don in nearly two years.”

Alan sighed. “They’re on inconvenient nights! The ballgames, I mean. Besides, you aren’t exactly leaping to take Don to the park, now are you?” He snapped angrily.