him the wrong breakfast.
But this time, he didn’t argue.
He stood there for a moment.
He looked at the cabinets, then the shelves, then the window bench.
Then he smiled.
“Okay,” he said.
Grant actually laughed, clearly entertained by how easily Grandpa appeared to surrender.
Grandpa calmly packed his tools and swept the work area.
Then he pulled out one final page.
“What was that?” I asked.
“A completion acknowledgment.”
“A what?”
“A piece of paper saying the job was finished, they had inspected it, they had no complaints
