by Diane Buccheri
Leaving the skating rink, Mom said with a twinkle, “didn’t you leave something inside? A comb maybe?” “Oh yes! I must have.” Back in we went, my brother somewhat bewildered but diligently looking. Searching the area where skaters sit and put on their skates, we looked high and low, to no avail, Mom and I keeping our faces down, mirth ready to burst out.