Quick Fix
Despite his wife's insistence, Theo elected not to call the police. Sure, this was practically becoming an epidemic in the neighborhood, but really, there was nothing much could be done now; and anyway, whoever the father of the perpetrator was, it was his job to take care of the disciplinary end of things. Perhaps aided by the use of a good strong belt.
All Theo did was head over to the hardware store the next day and pick up a new mailbox. He knew he ought to do what several of his neighbors had done: hire Steve Edwards or one of the Gantner boys or someone with bricklaying experience to build a good sturdy mailbox housing, something that would stand up to whatever little thug had been going around lately with a baseball bat. Thing was, that felt like giving in. This was supposed to be a nice town, full of decent people. Having to worry about barring and bricking everything up was supposed to be for city folk.
When he returned home, his wife came out to meet him by the smashed remains of the old mailbox. She watched in critical silence as he took the new box and slid it carefully inside.
"And what the neighbors will think of us for having such a tacky thing on our lawn, I certainly don't know," she sniffed, before stalking back up the driveway and into the house.
1 comment:
No, see, what you do is put up a new mailbox…
…filled with cement.
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