THE EVIDENCE LINGERS ON
During our first year of marriage my wife and I lived with a widower and his teenager. One Saturday morning everyone was gone for a stretch except me. I decided to surprise the family by baking some ice-box cookies that were in the refrigerator. So, eagerly, I sliced them and put them on the cookie sheet and baked about two dozen tiny cookies. After they were done I sat down to have a few of them with a glass of cold milk. They were sensational. So I had a few more, after all, they were small. Before I knew it I had eaten well more than half the cookies. Now it was embarrassing. How could I explain that I had eaten so many? So I solved the problem by eating the rest of them. (After all, they were small). Now I had to get rid of all the evidence. I cleaned up the kitchen slick as a whistle, hiding all…
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