18
The letters keep coming
📨

"Give me my letter!" you shout, as you leap towards your Dad, arms outstretched.

You just catch a glimpse of your Dad's look of surprise, before tripping on some of Evan's lego and landing flat on your back.

"Are you alright Arthur?" asks your Dad.

"Hnngh. Fine." you reply looking up at him from the floor.

"Good!" says Dad, tearing up the letter into tiny shreds as he talks. "Now let's put this junk mail in the bin. You know you really shouldn't get so worked up about it, I cleaned out our gutters just last month."

You close your eyes. Next time you will need to do better. But will there be a next time?

...

The next morning, just as the night is turning into day, you tiptoe carefully down the stairs before anyone else is awake. You position yourself at the front door, open the letter box and peep outside. No sign of the postman just yet.

You settle down to wait.

After 30 minutes... still no postman.

After 1 hour... no postman.

After 1 hour and 10 minutes... Dad walks downstairs.

"What are you doing down there Arthur?" he asks.

"Nothing, you reply," standing up quickly. "I was just err... was just.."

Just then there is a gentle thud behind you as the now familiar letter falls to the floor.

Both you and your Dad bend down at the same time to pick it up.

Do you say: