Distributing Leaves

Louise closed the book review section and looked above her half-glasses at her husband.  He was a pleasant sight, thin face and lined brow relaxed, handsome in his white dress shirt and Sunday dress sweater.  The family had been to church, had breakfast, and since then had burrowed into the Sunday papers with a delicious disregard for time.  He looked up from the sports section as if she had sent him a telepathic signal.  He grinned and looked at his watch.  "I can always tell when my time is up.  You want us to help now in the yard, don't you?"

Still in her blue church-going dress, she gave her husband a conciliatory smile.  Despite his protestation, he liked yard work.  She said, "You're right.  But it won't take us long, dear.  And then, if Janie has her homework under control, we can go to the movies."

Janie, sprawled on the floor, reading the funnies, said morosely, "I wonder what other kids are doing this afternoon.  Going to the Smithsonian maybe, or a concert, or just being left alone to do their homework in peace. . . ."

Bill got up and, passing Janie, reached down and unceremoniously tousled her blond hair.  "Grumble, grumble.  Other kids are probably just like you: at home and buggin' their parents.  C'mon, Janie, time to suit up for our big leaf-spreading project.  Get on your most disreputable clothes."

Janie changed to her new jeans jacket and tan pants, Bill to his tattered chinos and lumberjack shirt, and Louise to her usual yard uniform, Japanese garden pants, b...