"What have you accomplished today, Andrew?"
It was the question Paul Hanbridge asked his son every day.
Five-year old Andrew began babbling happily about the piece of music his piano tutor had begun teaching him earlier that day.
That damn piano...Andrew had begged and pleaded for lessons. Paul hadn't the heart to refuse him, not so soon after the boy's mother had passed. But he still didn't like the idea...it was too much of a distraction. He had plans for the boy, none of which involved music.
"No talk of the piano at the table, son," reprimanded Mr. Hanbridge.
Little Andrew deflated a bit, wanting so badly to share with his father what he had learned. But he perked up in no time, talking instead about school, a topic he knew his father would approve of.
"-and Benjamin fell and hurt his knee. He got in trouble for climbing the trees-"
"Andrew," Mr. Hanbridge interrupted sternly. "I asked you what you accomplished today. Benjamin's knee, however interesting, has nothing to do with that question."
"I'm sorry, father," said Andrew reproachfully.
Mr. Hanbridge softened. "That's quite alright. Remember, clean and concise speech. That will get you far."
Andrew sniffed and nodded, looking down at his shoes.