My summer job

“Mom, I need a bookshelf,” I declared as I marched into the kitchen where my mom was paying bills. She looked up at me, surprised. Her brow furrowed.

“Bookshelf? Why do you need a bookshelf? And it wouldn’t fit in your room anyways,” she told me, crushing my dream.

“It will if we rearrange some things!” I said smiling, hoping to convince her. She sighed and shook her head, saying “Look, we really can’t afford a bookshelf right now. Maybe for your birthday.” I was getting desperate.

“Please! I’ll work for it! I’ll get a summer job! Please! I need it!” I exclaimed, falling to my knees and begging. My mother looked around and at me. She sighed again.

“Fine, suit yourself,” she said, tossing me the newspaper. I grabbed it eagerly and began searching for the classifieds. My eyes scanned the page for pretty numbers. A 25 caught my attention and I read the ad. It read:

Help wanted

Assisting the disabled

Two days a week

25 dollars a day

Call 555-2879

Immediately I showed the ad to my mom. She read through it, nodding her head slowly.

“OK,” she said finally.

“Yes!” I cried, jumping into the air and clapping my hands. I ran to the phone.