Yesterday our cleaning lady was here, tackling the Amundson abode. I always feel better knowing I've got someone who comes to bleach the place down once every two weeks.
Sharon is around 65 years old. A sweet midwestern lady who swims in her pool everyday in the summer, and knows how to bake some amazing Christmas goodies. She also loves to chat.
Ethan also loves to chat.
He was chattin' it up with her about the storm that passed through the day before, the damage it caused around town, the four quarters he had in his pocket, the tooth he pulled out and the one that he can't get out, the garage sale we plan on having, and the play he is in...
And one more...
Ethan: Sharon. Do you want one of my quarters?
Sharon: Well thank you! But I don't need a quarter.
Ethan: But do you want it?
Sharon: No. I don't want it. You keep it. You never know when you might need a quarter.
Ethan: Well... I want you to have it.
Sharon: You are so nice to offer it Ethan. But I think your mom gave you the quarter.
Ethan: I know. But I want to give it to you.
pause
Ethan: I have three other quarters.
Sharon: Honey, that is really nice. But I don't want to take your quarter. Someday you might want to buy something and you'll think, 'Darn it. I wish I had one more quarter."
Ethan: But Sharon... you are working so hard cleaning our house.
pause
Ethan: It's a tip.
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