It was an awful week. He already had some 500 word exams due by Friday and his computer got a virus and would not even turn on. The format for these exams was, of course, programmed onto his laptop.
He knew his buddy down the hall had the same format so he decided to give him a quick call on his cell. He reached into his backpack that was thrown onto the floor beside all the shoes only to find the face of his cell phone was busted in half. It had been stepped on. He couldn’t flip it open to turn it on.
He had to go to baseball practice later that afternoon. As he walked around home plate, a wild pitch hit him right in the mouth, dropping him to his knees. After he received the four stitches to close the gap in his swollen inner lip, he returned to his room.
Upon entering, he immediately noticed the care box. His mom had sent him some cookies and a reminder that she loved him.
Great, he thought. “I can’t call and thank her. I can’t write and thank her. I can’t even eat the damn cookies.”