“I caught a cold,” he apologized. “There was a draft in the classroom yesterday. I told the janitor, but he told me he could not find anything wrong. So I caught a cold. In June yet. Only your father catches colds in June.” “You’re not taking care of yourself, abba.” “I am worried about my baseball player.” He smiled at me. “I worry all the time you will get hit by a taxi or a trolley car, and you go and get hit by a baseball.”
