“Did you pick up some cookies on your way home from work, hun?” Linda asked her husband when he walked into the kitchen with his briefcase.
“Well,” Harvey began, “the strangest thing happened on my way to the store. I was driving past Old Mrs. Jenkins’ house, you know, the one with the little white fence and the dark green shutters? Anyway, as I was passing it I glanced over and saw her door was open. Now it’s not like her to leave a door open, so I thought it was a little weird that she’d been so careless about her door—her front door for that matter!
“So I kept driving for another half block or so, but I couldn’t get her off my mind. I mean of all the doors she could’ve left open, what were the chances she left her front door open? Anyway, I pulled into a driveway and turned around and went back to Mrs. Jenkins’ house—just to make sure everything was okay. So I get there and I walk up to the front door and I knock and call for her, but she didn’t answer.
“So by this point, I was getting a little panicked, so I pushed the door open and called out to her again, but still no answer. I let myself in and looked all around the house but I couldn’t find her anywhere. I thought, hey, maybe she’s out back by the garden or sitting under that big oak tree reading or something. So I get to the back door and guess what? She’s out there in the garden, watering her flowers and humming to herself and whatnot. I guess her grandkids had just stopped by for a visit and they didn’t pull the door all the way shut when they left.
“Anyway, we chatted for a while and had a little lemonade and she gave me the names of some books she liked and all that. Then I left and headed back here and that was the end of it.”
Linda stared blankly at her husband, not saying a word. Harvey stood there feeling a little uncomfortable — what with his wife staring at him so hard and all. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Finally he stammered, “So, uhh, to make a long story short, no, I did not get the cookies.”