Over-qualified

After dinner, I'm doing the dishes and Pop's in his room. I can hear him fidgeting with something and swearing under his breath.

I glance into his room out of the corner of my eye and realize he's trying to re-set his alarm clock. The electric one always gives him trouble.

He keeps fumbling for a few minutes, then drops the plastic alarm clock on his foot. He swears.

A few more seconds of trying on his own, and he yells "KATE! What the hell am I doing wrong here!?"

I dry my hands and walk over, pick up the alarm, set the time. Dad walks into the kitchen and yells "IT'S 9:18!"

"Done!" I say, returning to the kitchen. Dad seems baffled.

"You're done? Already? Whoa! You're good! Wow! Good job!"

You should see how crazy he gets when I change the message on the answering machine.

Do you see why I still live here? Great to feel appreciated.