Alice watched as her husband stabbed his shovel into the earth just as the sun was beginning to rise. She sipped lemonade as he dug deeper and deeper, a sly grin on her face. As it grew closer to noon he put the shovel down and walked over to the porch, and she offered him a glass of lemonade.
“Almost done,” he said. “The well should be ready sooner than we thought. What’s that smile for?”
“You’re digging in the wrong spot.”