I asked my boss if she found the purse that her daughter wanted.
She said she had, but that it wouldn’t arrive in time for Christmas.
That was alright though; she had a plan.
She would print out a picture of the purse, seal it in an envelope, hide it in the bottom of her daughter’s stocking, and make sure it was the last thing she opened.
“I like to see my kids squirm,” she cackled.
I’ve never liked her more.