Just like any other teenager I had a curfew. Sometimes I made it in on time for the curfew and sometimes I did not. But no matter whether I arrived home before curfew, at curfew time or after curfew, I would always find the same scene when I walked through the front door.
There in the living room watching television or sometimes reading his Bible would be my father. My first thought when I saw my father waiting up for me on the couch was that I was about to be in trouble whether I was early or whether I was past curfew. Guilt is the first thing that comes into a teenager’s mind when he is confronted with a parent waiting up for him — whether he has any reason to be guilty or not.
Quickly putting my guilty mind to rest my dad would fumble looking away from the TV or looking up from the Bible he…
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