Let me tell you—this story is wild, and you won’t believe what happened!
First, a bit of background. I’m Emily, 17, and a senior in high school. I live with my dad, my stepmom Carla, and her son, Mason. Despite everything, Mason and I get along like siblings usually do. But Carla? Well, she can’t stand me, and trust me, the feeling is mutual.
It all started seven years ago when my mom passed away from a cold that wouldn’t go away. Not long after, my dad started dating Carla, and within a year, they were married. I’ll never forget my aunt’s words at the wedding: “Your father didn’t waste any time, did he? And who is Carla anyway? She’s nothing compared to your mom.”
Carla seemed fine at first. She even tried to win me over, but it didn’t take long for the passive-aggressive comments to begin. I remember once, she just stared at me and said, “You look too much like your mother, Emily. It actually pains me to look at you.” She’d add digs like, “No wonder your father gives Mason more attention.” I tried to brush it off, but it stung. My dad? Clueless, of course. He didn’t see how Carla really treated me, and Carla loved that. She could say whatever she wanted with zero consequences.
Fast forward to prom season. Like any other girl, I was dreaming of the perfect night. I had saved up my babysitting money for months and finally bought a gorgeous violet dress—my mom’s favorite color. I had also booked a hair appointment at a fancy salon, where all my friends were getting their hair done too. Everything was set for my magical night… until Carla decided to ruin it.
The day of prom, I showed up at the salon, excited and ready. But the receptionist looked confused when I arrived. “Emily? I thought you canceled your appointment,” she said. I froze. Canceled? I didn’t cancel anything.
Just then, the hairdresser came over and explained that she had received a call earlier that day, supposedly from my “mom,” canceling my appointment. My heart sank, and that’s when I saw her—Carla—sitting there, getting her own hair done, with a smirk on her face. She had canceled my appointment to ruin my day.
Desperate, I asked the stylist if she could fit me in anyway, but there were no openings left. I walked out of the salon in a daze, devastated. My perfect prom night was unraveling before my eyes, and by the time I got home, I was in tears, locked in my room, trying and failing to do my own hair. It looked awful, and I felt defeated. I didn’t even want to go to prom anymore.
But just when I thought the night was ruined, I heard loud honking outside. At first, I ignored it, thinking it was just a car passing by. But it didn’t stop, so I dragged myself to the window—and my jaw dropped. A sleek black limousine was parked in front of our house. Was this for me?
I ran downstairs just as the driver stepped out and asked for “Miss Emily.” My dad, confused, handed me a small card. Inside, in neat handwriting, it read: To my beautiful sister, Emily. I know you’ve had a rough time, but you deserve the best night ever! Enjoy the limo, and don’t worry about a thing. Love, Mason.
Mason? My 11-year-old stepbrother had planned all of this! He overheard Carla canceling my hair appointment, so he took matters into his own hands. Using money Carla had stashed away for a fancy necklace she wanted, Mason rented the limo and even arranged for a neighbor’s daughter—who worked as a stylist—to come over and do my hair and makeup.
Twenty minutes later, I went from crying in my room to looking like a princess. I couldn’t believe Mason had done all of this for me. When Carla pulled into the driveway and saw me stepping into the limo, her face turned red with shock. She had no idea how Mason had outsmarted her, and I wished I had a picture of her expression to hang on my mirror!
Prom turned out to be everything I had hoped for. When I arrived at the venue in the limo, heads turned, and I felt like a star. For the first time in a long while, I felt my mom’s presence with me, and the night was pure magic. As for Carla, I hope she learned her lesson—you can’t mess with someone’s happiness and expect to get away with it, especially when their little brother is there to save the day!
What is this Thingamajig?
Have you ever thought, “What is this thing?” when you saw a picture of an odd device on social media? Well, be ready for a perplexing circumstance! Today, we’re solving the riddle of an odd object that has confused many.
It may surprise you to learn that this strange device is actually a postal scale. Bewildered? Allow me to clarify the purpose and actual nature of a postal scale.
Consider using the regular postal service to send a letter or parcel. It’s important to know its weight before you apply the stamp and mail it. The postal scale enters the picture at this point. It is the unsung hero of the postal industry, made with the purpose of weighing items.
Postal scales were once frequently seen in both households and businesses. All you would have to do was set your package or letter on the scale and observe how the needle landed. You would then instantly be aware of the item’s weight in ounces. It was a basic yet necessary tool for people who sent mail on a regular basis.
You might wonder if postal scales are still necessary in the modern world of email and instant communications. But hey, what do you know? They still have a lot of relevance. Even though they might not be as widely used as they once were, postal scales are nonetheless essential for mailing and shipping. They are especially important to businesses as they let them precisely estimate postage expenses and steer clear of unforeseen problems at the post office.
There you have it, then. This unusual device’s mystery has now been revealed. Even though it’s not the most fascinating equipment, the standard postal scale performs its function admirably. Maybe the next time you see one, you’ll see its utility and simplicity a little more.
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