I moped. I complained. I ransacked. I gave up all hope. 72 hours and no word? The outlook was looking bleak. And then, like a TV episode of Hannah Montana, I found it, my Kindle, resting in a slim zippered pocket of a purse inside my closet. Just like that.
What I didn’t know was that during those 72 hours of moping, complaining and ransacking, my family had taken the matter into their own hands. A few clicks on my brother’s Mac Book Pro, and wam bam thank you ma’am, I’ve got a Kindle Touch in my hands on my birthday.
What am I going to do with TWO Kindles? I’ll find a way to cope…
I love my family.