“Wednesday, just as I was leaving for school, I heard Dad banging around his bedroom. “Son of a gun!” he bellowed, which is about as bad a thing as he’ll ever say. I went to the bottom of the stairs. “Something wrong?” “Where in blazes is my shirt with the gray stripes?” he thundered. Something clicked in my head and I ran upstairs to see if it was in my mending pile. “It’s in my room, Dad. I was going to sew a button on the cuff.” Dad let out a sigh. “Al, if you take something of mine, will you... please tell me? I’ve got on gray slacks, gray socks, and the only shirt in my closet is brown-checked.” “I’m sorry.” “I appreciate your learning to sew, but you’ve cost me fifteen minutes of searching the clothes dryer, the hamper, and everywhere else I could think to look. I wanted to be at the store early too.” I apologized again and had to run to make the bus. But when school was out, I’d only been home five minutes before Lester came crashing in the front door.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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