One day I was playing with my Barbie dolls when, in the next room, Mom shouted elatedly, “My work is done!”
I paused, shocked. How could this be? She was much younger than most people who retired! After a few confused seconds, I reasoned that there must be a set amount of work to do in life. If you worked quickly, you’d finish sooner.
The next day, I found Mom editing her book. My hypothesis shattered. I felt melancholy. I had thought that, since Mom was done with work forever, she’d have more time to take us on field trips.
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