"A scrubbing pail, " She said vexed. "A Mother's Day gift of a scrubbing pail." Her voice almost broke. Tears sprang to Nick's eyes. Without a word he picked up the scrubbing pail and mop and blindly trudged down the stairs. I put the comb in my pocket and ran after him. He was crying and I felt so bad I began to cry, too. On the way down we met Father. Nick could not talk, so I explained. "I will take it back," sobbed Nick. "No," said Father firmly, taking the pail. "It is a fine gift. A wonderful gift. I should have thought of it myself. Women sometimes don't see how to escape their... Show more

"A scrubbing pail, " She said vexed. "A Mother's Day gift of a scrubbing pail." Her voice almost broke.
Tears sprang to Nick's eyes. Without a word he picked up the scrubbing pail and mop and blindly trudged down the stairs. I put the comb in my pocket and ran after him. He was crying and I felt so bad I began to cry, too. On the way down we met Father. Nick could not talk, so I explained.
"I will take it back," sobbed Nick.
"No," said Father firmly, taking the pail. "It is a fine gift. A wonderful gift. I should have thought of it myself. Women sometimes don't see how to escape their burdens. They escape in pretty baubles rather than lighter work."
We all went upstairs again, Nick climbing very reluctantly. Inside the kitchen, Mother was still scrubbing, but not vigorously. Slowly, sadly.
Without a word Father soaked the puddle of dirty water up with the mop and using the foot wringer on the bucket, neatly squeezed it dry.
"You did not let Nick finish," he said sternly.
"Part of his gift was that he was going to wash the floor from now on." He looked at Nick. "Isn't that so, Nick ?"
With a flush of shame Nick understood the lesson. "Yes, oh, yes," he said in a low, eager tone.
Quickly, repentantly, Mother said, "It is too heavy work for a fourteen- year-old boy."
It was then I realised how smart Father was. "Ah," he said cunningly. "Not with this wonderful wringer and scrub pail. It"s much easier. Your hands stay clean, and your knees don't hurt." Again Father demonstrated quickly.
Mother said, looking sadly at Nick, "Ah, a woman can become so stupid." She kissed Nick and he felt better. Then they turned to me.
"Where is your gift?" asked Father. Nick looked at me and paled. I felt the comb in my pocket. It would make the scrubbing pail again a scrubbing pail compared with a comb with shining stones just like diamonds.
"Half the scrubbing pail," I said mournfully, and Nick looked at me with love in his eyes. (359 words)

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