I tell my father what I said in creative writing class about ‘showing not telling’ complete with examples. He expands on what I’ve said, and corrects me on points I didn’t make, as if all of this writing business is easy. Anyone can do it. He says. It’s funny. Sad. Annoying. Incredible.
Later that day he receives an important email and he asks for my help with the response. My typing skills are better than his, he says. Typing skills. Better than his. Really?
Then I suggest that he show me what he wants me to type. Clearly. In written form.