The Greatest Gift
At supper, the evening after my eighteenth birthday, Mother said, “I guess you were kind of disappointed in my gift yesterday, huh?” “Nah, huh uh, Mother,” I lied, “I’ll be needing a shaving kit pretty soon, I’ll just save it till my whiskers get thicker.” “Well, you’re close enough to being a man now that I can give you what you've really wanted for a couple years now.” I looked at her, a question in my eyes, what could...