Rachel and I took separate cars to church on Sunday. I rounded up the kids and was ready to go first, so I headed out. Matthew picked up Rachel's bags. "Hang on," I said, with a nagging feeling that she might need them. Then again, she didn't like bending over to pick things up [Rachel's interjection: I was 9 months pregnant at the time of this story. Bending over wasn't easy!]. "Never mind," I concluded. "Might as well bring them with us."
I had just unloaded the kids when my phone rang. It was Richard Wright. "Your wife was chasing after you [at 9 months pregnant, must have looked fairly ridiculous], but you must not have seen her. You have her keys and her phone."
Oops.
The Wrights brought Rachel home and we picked my car up from the church the next day. Fortunately, Rachel was more amused than annoyed.
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