It was 6 p.m., and I was about to leave the coin laundry where I was employed. My boss called me over and asked if I would mind dropping off someone’s laundry on my way home. “It’s for my cousin,” she apologized, “who’s eight months pregnant and can’t get out much anymore.”
I cheerfully agreed and, driving to the address, knocked at the door. A little girl, the sister-to-be, answered.
“Hi, there,” I said with a big smile. “Is your mommy home?” Holding up the white bundle of clothes, I explained, “I have a delivery for her.”
The child’s mouth dropped, and her eyes went wide. “Mom!” She shrieked, “come quick! It’s the stork!”
When I asked my friend if she was planning to attend church, she just shook her head. “I haven’t gone in a long time,” she said.
“Besides, it’s too late for me. I’ve probably already broken all seven commandments.”
Auto-correct makes me say things I didn’t Nintendo.
On our 25th anniversary, my husband took me out to dinner. Our teenage daughters said they’d have dessert waiting for us when we returned. After we got home, we saw that the dining room table was beautifully set with china, crystal and candles, and there was a note that read: “Your dessert is in the refrigerator. We are staying with friends, so go ahead and do something we wouldn’t do!”
“I suppose,” my husband responded, “we could vacuum.”