Glass Houses

As previously reported, we traveled more than 3 hours with the kids on Monday to take advantage of the free admission to a living history museum. While there, we received a frantic phone call from Anna - she was locked out of the house and she had a horrible headache. We told her that the headache medicine was in the kitchen, suggested a neighbor's house to check for an extra key, and reminded her that we were too far away to come home and rescue her. She sounded upset with that.

After hanging up, I was mentally rehearsing my already well-polished "See? This is why it's important to remember your key LIKE WE TOLD YOU" discourse and thinking of following it up with a supplementary "You're old enough to keep track of important things like keys, you know" speech - when I noticed Larry staring at my shoulder. My, uh, empty shoulder....

"Where's your purse?" he asked.

"Purse? Where is my purse? Did I have it when we left the car?"

Larry, with nary a word of complaint about my apparent senility, jogged back through all the exhibits we had visited, looking for the missing item. Oh, we greeted him like a conquering hero when he returned with my purse in his hands!

Anna would have greeted Larry likewise that evening had she known that his lack of reproach over the purse incident saved her from a big fat hypocritical lecture - a lecture that could not now reasonably be delivered by her grateful yet chastened mother.

Score one for poetic justice.

["Lost and Found" Clip art licensed from the Clip Art Gallery on DiscoverySchool.com]