Sunday Blues

“Hey Spot,” said Fawn. “Are you ready to go to the mall? I want to spend my Christmas money.”

“Today is Sunday,” said Spot, noticing that it was only nine o’clock in the morning. “The mall isn’t open until around noon.”

“Sunday!” exclaimed Fawn. “I thought it was Monday. Now what am I going to do for the next three hours!”

“Well,” said Spot. “You could always wait until noon hour and then go to the mall.”

“I could,” said Fawn. “But I might not want to wait that long.”

“Sorry,” said Spot. “But you will have to wait. If the mall isn’t open until noon, there isn’t much that you can do about it.”

“Well,” said Fawn. “I don’t like Sunday’s.”

“But Fawn,” said Spot. “Sunday’s are supposed to be a day of rest. At one time nothing was open on Sunday’s.”

“Really,” said Fawn. “What did everyone do?”

“Everyone spent time with their family,” said Spot.

“That is kind of corny,” said Fawn.

“No really,” said Spot. “There was a time when families meant something.”

“Okay,” said Fawn. “I think starting next Sunday, I’m going to stay home on Sunday’s and spend time with you and the Hansen’s.”

“What about today?” asked Spot. “Today is Sunday.”

“I can’t today,” said Fawn. “I’m going to the mall at noon.”

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