Injustice

As a boy, I told my father of a perceived injustice, a situation that must straightaway be set to rights. I cannot recall what had me in such a lather, some minor vexation that I had recalibrated into a matter of urgency. I set it all out for my father. I then justified my inability to remedy the situation. I waited to be dismissed with some innocuous advice and a kind word for being such a dear boy. My father paused, leaned toward me and said in an even voice, “Now, tell me what you intend to do about it.”