Eighty-one

“Good day, dad,” Terry greeted as soon as he entered his dad's office.

Tyson did not look up from the bunch of files in front of him in response to his greeting. Terry worked for that into the room and stopped a few inches in front of his father's desk.

“Good day, dad,” Terry repeated, a little more loudly than the first.

“And what is good about the day?” Tyson finally answered, still not raising his head, the only thing he raised was his spectacles further up the bridge of his nose.

“I'm sorry for not showing up the other day, I got caught up with another business,” he tried to apologize. Tyson was tired of his son's frequent childishness, or rather his lack of interest in their work.

“Excuses excuses excuses! That's all you know how to do! you already had a story cooked up as an explanation, right?” His father fumed and slammed his palm so hard over his desk that anyone in the room would have felt the vibration it caused.

“I'm sorry that I'll try to do better next time,” they reb