I Lost My Wallet
One of my boy’s friends is always leaving things in our driveway. Over the last couple of months I’ve found a driver’s license, a phone, headphones and his wallet.
“You have to take care of your stuff,” I lectured him.
He laughed at me.
“Everyone loses stuff,” he said.
“I don’t!”
Cut to Tuesday morning...
...I was taking the dogs to get the paper.
Check inside my coat pocket.
No wallet.
Odd.
Checked the console on the car.
Uh-oh.
I had change for the paper. I wasn’t panicking yet. I’d probably left it on my dresser.
I brought the dogs in, gave them a couple of bones and headed to my room.
Nothing.
You know what happens next. I looked through the car, the laundry, the garbage, and in the couch cushions.
Then I said a prayer to Saint Anthony.
Evidently, he wasn’t around.
“Okay, when was the last time you remember having it?”
I’d stopped at a store on the way home.
I checked the cupboards where I’d put the groceries...
...dug through the car.
...back to the couch cushions.
...through the garbage again.
“I don’t lose things!” I yelled.
So, someone obviously had broke into my car.
That didn’t make sense, but I talked my way into believing it, and then I thought of my beautiful wife. It wouldn’t be beyond her to take my wallet, forget she borrowed it, and left it in her room.
I sent a text and she called.
“Usually it’s in your coat.”
“I know.”
“You checked your coat?”
“Yes.”
“It wasn’t there?”
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
She laughed.
I thought about having to cancel my cards, get a new license, and trying to somehow get some money.
Back to the driveway.
“St. Anthony?”
And there it was...
...under the snow.
The relief was all-consuming.
I thought of the kid I had lectured about dropping things. He didn’t need to know how I’d spent my morning. I let Kathy know.
“Found it in the driveway,” I texted.
“So, you dropped it?” She asked.
“No, I set it down in the driveway because I didn’t feel like carrying it into the house,” I answered.
We gotta’ work on her questions and answers.
“You have to take care of your stuff,” I lectured him.
He laughed at me.
“Everyone loses stuff,” he said.
“I don’t!”
Cut to Tuesday morning...
...I was taking the dogs to get the paper.
Check inside my coat pocket.
No wallet.
Odd.
Checked the console on the car.
Uh-oh.
I had change for the paper. I wasn’t panicking yet. I’d probably left it on my dresser.
I brought the dogs in, gave them a couple of bones and headed to my room.
Nothing.
You know what happens next. I looked through the car, the laundry, the garbage, and in the couch cushions.
Then I said a prayer to Saint Anthony.
Evidently, he wasn’t around.
“Okay, when was the last time you remember having it?”
I’d stopped at a store on the way home.
I checked the cupboards where I’d put the groceries...
...dug through the car.
...back to the couch cushions.
...through the garbage again.
“I don’t lose things!” I yelled.
So, someone obviously had broke into my car.
That didn’t make sense, but I talked my way into believing it, and then I thought of my beautiful wife. It wouldn’t be beyond her to take my wallet, forget she borrowed it, and left it in her room.
I sent a text and she called.
“Usually it’s in your coat.”
“I know.”
“You checked your coat?”
“Yes.”
“It wasn’t there?”
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
She laughed.
I thought about having to cancel my cards, get a new license, and trying to somehow get some money.
Back to the driveway.
“St. Anthony?”
And there it was...
...under the snow.
The relief was all-consuming.
I thought of the kid I had lectured about dropping things. He didn’t need to know how I’d spent my morning. I let Kathy know.
“Found it in the driveway,” I texted.
“So, you dropped it?” She asked.
“No, I set it down in the driveway because I didn’t feel like carrying it into the house,” I answered.
We gotta’ work on her questions and answers.
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