Old man John woke up to a loud noise outside his house. It was early, and the sun was barely up. He rubbed his eyes, grumbling, “What in tarnation is that racket?” His old bones creaked as he rolled out of bed, still half-asleep.

He shuffled to the window in his pajamas, squinting into the dim light. There, in his driveway, were two shadowy figures pushing his beat-up old car! “Thieves!” John hissed, his heart racing. “Not my rusty ol’ Chevy!”

Quick as a flash—well, as quick as a 78-year-old could be—John grabbed his old shotgun from the closet. He hadn’t touched it in years, but it still looked scary enough. He hobbled outside, his bare feet slapping the cold ground, and pointed the gun at the figures. “Hey, you no-good crooks!” he shouted. “Push that car back right now, or I’ll fill ya with holes!”

The figures froze, then slowly turned around. They pulled off their masks… and John’s jaw dropped. It was his nephew Tommy and his cousin Betty! “Uncle John?!” Tommy yelped, holding up his hands. “It’s just us!”

John’s face turned redder than a ripe tomato. He felt like the biggest fool in town. “What… what are y’all doin’ with my car?” he stammered, lowering the gun.

Betty laughed so hard out of relief that she snorted. “We were gonna borrow it to pick up some groceries for ya! Surprise!” However, it was Betty and Tommy who had surprise stamped all over their faces.

John wanted to disappear. He stood there, barefoot in his saggy pajamas, feeling like he’d just starred in the world’s dumbest movie. Then Tommy squinted and said, “Hey, Uncle John, where’s your wheelchair?”

Before John could answer, Betty clapped her hands and hollered, “It’s a miracle! He’s walkin’!” She pulled out her phone and started dialing everyone and anyone she knew to be family. Tommy, on the other hand, just stared at the old man, pointing at him, not believing his eyes.

John groaned, shaking his head. He popped open the shotgun and pulled out the bullets, muttering, “Ain’t no miracle.” Then, with all the grace of a sack of potatoes, he plopped down on the ground, right on his backside. “Ow! Somebody get my chair! Y’all know I’m paralyzed!”

Tommy smirked, crossing his arms. “Get the chair yourself, old man,” he teased. Betty chuckled, murmuring, “Yeah, walk it off, miracle man!” They stood there, waiting for a damn good explanation.

John, however, just sighed, staring at the sky. “Well, that’s that,” he thought. “Guess no one’s comin’ round anymore to clean the house, mow the yard, cook dinner, do the laundry, wash the dishes, walk the dog, or…” He trailed off, listing every chore he could think of. Meanwhile, Betty and Tommy were quickly joined by other members of the family from the sorounding neighborhood, all looking straight at the grumpy and now chairless miracle sitting in the middle of the driveway.