A Short Story

[Apparently, some people are not able to read my mind. Here's my story re-formatted to be a little more clear - the Italic text is the story.]

Often the contents of my pockets at the end of the day tell a story. Occasionally it will be a mystery story. Here is one from yesterday:

2 of those little plastic things......I saved Little Bro from an unpleasant
that attach tags to clothing.....................swallowing experience,
Garage door opener..........................and then we got in the car
26 Cheerios & a broken cracker.........and spilled most of our snack
Sticker.................................................and dropped things.
5 Kleenex folded into little squares.................Little Bro had a cold,
Library card..........................but we went to story time anyway
Sand.......................................................and to the park.

But don't forget, this is a mystery story. What you wouldn't guess is that we went to the park that doesn't have sand. Somehow, for me, having little kids means that there is always sand in my pockets, no matter what. It's just part of their magic.

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