The Missing Spoon

Dear Diary,

Tonight, I had an important job. Dad let me set the dinner table all by myself.

We were having warm corn soup. The kitchen smelled like sweet butter.

First, I put down four red placemats. One went in front of each chair.

Next, I carried four yellow bowls. I walked very slowly so they would not drop.

Then, I gave each bowl a cloth napkin. The table looked very neat and pretty.

Dad brought the big soup pot to the table. Mom and my sister sat down.

I sat in my chair and smiled. I felt like a great helper.

Then Dad looked down at his placemat. He looked to the left and to the right.

"Uh-oh," Dad said with a chuckle. "How will I eat my soup?"

I looked at his yellow bowl. There was no spoon!

I had forgotten one spoon for Dad. My cheeks felt a little warm.

"Do not worry," I said. "I can fix it!"

I stood up and walked to the kitchen counter. I pulled open the silverware drawer.

I found the biggest, shiniest spoon in the tray. I carried it back with two hands.

I placed it right beside Dad's bowl. "Here is the best spoon in the house," I told him.