Have you ever left home without it? I remember that commercial about some credit card that said, “Never leave home without it!” Boy, were they right! Let me explain.

I got up today to do a little yard work. Lucky for me it was an overcast day with the threat of showers. I had planned to spray weed killer and prepare some ground for a flowerbed. I just couldn’t risk the weed killer on account of threat of rain, and I couldn’t prepare the flowerbed without spraying for weeds, so I drank my coffee, read my paper, ate a lingering breakfast, and contemplated what to do now.

I had been putting off going to the store and getting gas for the lawnmower. I decided that was a brilliant solution to my yard work problem. I loaded up the gas cans, reported to my wife my plans, and off I went. I was dressed for yard work duty, T-shirt, short cargo pants, work boots, and the required “John Deere” hat. I only forgot one little thing. Since my plans for the day did not involve leaving the yard, I left my wallet on the dresser. I had my keys, I had my cell phone, and I even had my roll of Tums. However, (you guessed it), no wallet.

I pumped the gas, went inside to pay, looked around the store for ten minutes to see if anything was new or different, sashayed to the register and calmly reached in my back pocket for my wallet to pay for my lawnmower gas.

I have never had the experience of having a car stolen, or to come home and find your sanctuary had been broken into, but at that moment of feeling all over my backside for the wallet that had always in the past been as reliable as a Swiss watch, I didn’t know whether to faint, fish, or cut bait.

The clerk was giving me the old “sure you left your wallet at home” routine, while I was racking my brain for some other way to pay for my gas. This wasn’t exactly a cash, credit card, or check situation however. I was standing there naked to the world.

I have always prided myself on being prepared. I felt like a weed killing idiot. I would have been a card carrying weed killing idiot, but my weed killing card was in my wallet, back on my dresser.

All was right in the end - the manager let me go home and get my wallet. I felt so good after paying and being right with the universe again that I celebrated. Smithfield’s Chicken and BBQ made me whole, once again (It wasn’t the first time!). I guess overall if I have to leave home without anything, my wallet is better than my choppers! It’s hard to celebrate trying to suck on a BBQ sandwich! I’ll be right back.