I Confess, I Cheated
My husband told me I had to confess this to you, so I will. I lied. I cheated. I laughed about it shamelessly. You see, rea is not a sewing term. It is just a three letter word I completely made up so that in our scrabble game I could set myself up to use my letter “Q” for aqua. My husband didn’t really think it was a word, but he let me use it anyway, because he didn’t want to lose his turn over such a small number. (If you don’t know Scrabble, every tile/letter has points on it.) He also pointed out to me that my dishonesty is probably why I lost by so much. This is actually a charitable statement, because my loss has nothing to do with my dishonesty, but probably more, ahem, due to my limited vocabulary and the luck of the draw. Regardless, there, I’ve confessed it, so let’s move on, if you don’t mind. They say confession is good for the soul, and I do feel so much better. But the truth is, confession isn’t simply about feeling better. Like I al