Mark continued stacking the boxes of screws,
wrenches and other tools that were unknown to
Emily in their use and names. “What a way to spend
a birthday,” he sighed to himself. Mark “celebrated”
his 18th birthday that day.
After a grueling day of checking lists, calling
suppliers, and helping customers, Mark was ready to
just go home and sleep. It was a dreadful way to
spend a birthday, especially for such a young man.
After the long walk home, Mark could finally see
his house. He would make a sandwich and then fall
right to sleep on his bed, or couch, whichever he fell
on first.
As he approached his house he could see a
plastic container sitting on his door step. It made
him walk a little faster. He finally picked it up and
saw there was note with the cookies in the container.
It read:
I’m sorry for hounding you for the light bulb for
the past few days, it’s just that I can’t see what I’m
baking without the light bulb for the oven. I have to
keep checking and opening the oven door to make
sure that what I’m baking is not burned. The cookies
are a little burned at the bottom. I’m sorry –it is the 3rd
batch I baked. Happy Birthday!
