It was a calm and quiet night on the farm, with the stars twinkling overhead and the gentle rustle of the wind through the fields. Inside their cozy farmhouse, the farmer, John, and his wife, Mary, were getting ready to retire for the night after a long day’s work.
As they settled into bed, John turned to Mary with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Mary, there’s something I need to confess,” he said, his voice filled with seriousness.
Mary looked at him curiously, sensing the weight of his words. “What is it, John?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.
John took a deep breath before finally admitting, “Well, you know how I’ve always prided myself on being an honest man and running an honorable farm?”
Mary nodded, urging him to continue.
John hesitated for a moment before blurting out, “Well, I have a confession to make. You see, whenever I count our chickens, I always add an extra one.”
Mary’s eyes widened in surprise, and she gasped, “John, why would you do such a thing? That’s dishonest!”
John hung his head in shame, knowing he had disappointed his wife. “I know, Mary, I know,” he replied sheepishly. “But every time I see those little cluckers running around, I just can’t help myself. I always want to make it seem like we have more than we do.”
Mary couldn’t help but chuckle at her husband’s confession. “Oh, John, you silly man,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “I forgive you. But from now on, let’s count our chickens honestly, alright?”
John nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “Of course, Mary. I promise to be truthful from now on.”
With that, the couple settled back into bed, their hearts lighter knowing that honesty would always prevail on their farm. And as they drifted off to sleep, the faint sounds of contented clucking echoed in the night, a reminder of the simple joys of farm life.