Thief
I arrived home fuming. My
wife looked up from her book as I walked into the living room and
smiled.
"Hi Mike. How was your
day?"
I put my toolbox down and
banged the door closed.
"You
know Kate, the worse thing about work is you can't leave anything
down or someone will take it. I'm working with a bunch of thieves.
I swear, you got to store
everything under lock
and key. You know that jerk, Pete?"
My wife put her book down,
her eyes widening. "Yea, but Mike..."
I put up my hand up to
stall her. "He's the worst of them. I was packing up my toolbox
and noticed my screwdriver was missing. His toolbox was next to mine
and I saw it sitting inside it. Can you imagine?"
I took my jacket
off and walked across the room to the coat rack.
"Mike..."
"Of course he was full of
excuses, Kate. He said it looked just like his. What an idiot. My
name is etched into the handle. I bet..."
My mouth dropped open when
I saw my jacket already hanging in place. Stunned, I looked at the
one in my hand.
"Mike, that's what I
was trying to tell you. You have someone else's jacket."
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