The Newspaper

THE NEWSPAPER

The morning chill brought tears to Harold's eyes. Standing on the
porch in his pajamas, he focused his eyes and saw the morning paper
lying across the damp grass. "Darn kid!" he muttered as his blood began
to boil. He reached down, retrieved his newspaper and tip-toed back to
the house, being careful not to get his feet wet.
Sprawling the wet paper across the kitchen table, he peeled layer
after layer from the thick stack and laid them apart separately to dry.
Some tore away at the edges, causing his anger to percolate further
until he burst out with a string of profanities.
"Harold!" his wife cried with shock. "Please bite your tongue!" His
wife Maggie was up earlier than usual and caught her husband off guard.
"I can't believe what's coming out of your mouth."
"Well, believe it," he said, shaking his head with disgust. "I've had
it with our paper boy. Doesn't anybody have any pride in their work
anymore? Look at this paper. It's soaked and impossible to read."
"For heavens sake Harold, he's only a boy."
"Yeah? Well I was a boy once with a paper route and I managed to get
every paper on the porch where it belongs. If I didn't, I didn't get
paid."
"We live in different times Harold," shrugged Maggie.
"Poppycock! I won't be seduced into that way of thinking. I'm sick of
all the excuses being made to overlook ineptitude. This whole world is
going to hell with excuses."
"And so is your blood pressure if you don't relax. Your temper will be
the death of you yet, Harold."
"I just don't understand kids anymore. Don't they understand the
importance of maintaining a good work ethic?"
Maggie, seeing the frustration on Harold's face, patted him matronly
on the shoulder and kissed him on the forehead. "Maybe if you just talk
to him dear. He's really a good kid with a lot of good qualities. You
never know, a little talk might do wonders."
"Well, maybe your right Maggie," said Harold, cooling a little. "I
guess I've been a little tough on him. After all, it's just a
newspaper."
A while later the front door flung open and Harold's son walked in.
"Hi dad," he said breathing a little heavily.
"Sit down a moment son." I wanted to discuss something with you. It
has to do with your paper route and ?"