Get the Count
Pablo closed the door and dropped his keys on the table as a relieved sigh escaped from him.
Finally, the week of hell was behind him. Whoever created inventory counts should be drawn and quartered and thrown in a shark tank wearing a porkchop around his/her neck.
He’d think of more ways after a good night’s sleep. Hopefully, he wouldn’t dream of counting items again.
He quietly entered the bedroom and got undressed. The last thing he wanted was to wake his wife. He failed.
He sighed. “Yeah?”
“There’s a sale at Brekin’s. Remember how many lightbulbs we have?