“Heard you changed your will?” my son wrote on the slate.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Bequeathing all your property to charities?”
“True.”
“Why? You had made me your sole inheritor,” he wrote, his hand shaking in agitation.
“Now, I know what you and your wife think of me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Of late, you two have been mincing no words while talking in front of me, have you? I heard every word and decided others could use my money better.”
“Heard?” he wrote furiously, “but the doctor had told me you had become irrecoverably deaf.”
“Just an adjustment between friends.”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Bequeathing all your property to charities?”
“True.”
“Why? You had made me your sole inheritor,” he wrote, his hand shaking in agitation.
“Now, I know what you and your wife think of me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Of late, you two have been mincing no words while talking in front of me, have you? I heard every word and decided others could use my money better.”
“Heard?” he wrote furiously, “but the doctor had told me you had become irrecoverably deaf.”
“Just an adjustment between friends.”
