“Okay, it’s time for you to go next door and apologize.” We’d been home for a couple of hours, dinner all done and the dishes washed. It was seven-thirty in the evening.
“Aww, Daddy. Do I have to?” Sherie didn’t like to say sorry for nothing.
“You know the answer to that, precious. Tell you what…I’ll go with you and knock gently on the door so you don’t scare the neighbors with your banging and yelling, then the rest is up to you.” I looked down at her, arms crossed.
“Oh all right.” She dragged her feet as we went out the door.
I knocked on the McDay’s door, then waited for a response. I could hear movement on the other side.
A young female voice asked, “Who’s there, please?”
“It’s me, Sherie!” my daughter said.
I heard a male voice in the background. Tonya opened the door. She wore
