During Family Breakfast, My Sister Hurled a Hot Frying Pan at My Daughter

I laid a sealed white envelope on the table beside his tea.

“Here’s my formal resignation from the third-grade summer reading contract,” I said.

Principal Davis looked up, removed his wire-rimmed reading glasses, and set them on his planner.

“That summer tutoring program pays three thousand two hundred dollars, Rachel,” he said.

“You signed on two weeks ago.”

“I know,” I said.

“I can’t promise I’ll be available mornings through July and August.”

“Is this because of your daughter?”