I Found a Diamond Ring on a Supermarket Shelf and Returned It to Its Owner — the Next Day, a Man in a Mercedes Showed Up at My Door

That Thursday afternoon, I picked the kids up from school and daycare, and we made a quick stop at the grocery store. We needed milk, cereal, apples, and diapers. I was hoping to get some peanut butter and broccoli too, but the usual budget stress came with us like an extra passenger.

Max had somehow wedged himself into the lower rack of the cart, narrating everything like a race car commentator.

Lily kept arguing about which bread rolls were “crisp enough,” like she’d suddenly developed a culinary degree.

Noah knocked over a display of granola bars and mumbled “my bad” before casually strolling away. And Grace, my little wild thing, was sitting in the front seat of the cart, singing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” on a loop, crumbs from a mystery graham cracker falling onto her shirt.

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