I say hello and he grins at me, the sort of "I know something you don't know" smirk people get when they they're about to have fun at your expense. "Don't forget to check your mailbox," he says. As I walk over to the inbox where Dad deposits my letters and packages, he follows instead of retreating back into his office. I'm even more suspicious.
In my mailbox is a letter summoning me for jury duty. "Don't forget to do your civic duty!" Dad cackles. I don't know why he gets such enjoyment whenever such milestones of adulthood crop up, but Dad was equally delighted when I started paying my own cell phone bill, invested in my first mutual fund, and had my health insurance premiums raised. I think he just really revels in these small proofs that his children have grown up.
But jury duty. Ugh. They wanted me to serve in December, which would have made things really complicated at HB's since that's the peak season for retail. I was able to push off my jury duty for a month, so I won't have to call in until January 4th, but my group number is pretty low so odds are pretty good that I'll actually have to go down to the courthouse this time.