Cinnamon Toasted
“Casey lay at her feet, his head resting on his paws. At seeing me, he flopped his tail once or twice in a lazy welcome.
“Hey, Mom,” Lindsey greeted me. When she saw that I was struggling with a large box, she jumped up to help carry it. “This thing must weigh a ton.”
“Close to it,” I said, out of breath after lugging my spiffy new garbage disposal up a steep flight of stairs.
“I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home, so I took Casey out to do his thing.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” I puffed as we set the box on the floor, where it would be out of the way.
I heard the sound of a television in the living room. I glimpsed Melly in an armchair reading The Statesman, Brandywine Creek’s weekly newspaper. Upon seeing me, she clicked the remote and came into the kitchen. “I hope you didn’t buy the cheapest model Lowe’s carries. You should know by now that you only get what you pay for.”
“This particular one was middle of the line. It’s supposed to be perfect for small households.”
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