I don't usually leave the house without my wallet, but I did two weeks ago going to handbell choir practice in town. I don't usually stop for milk on the way home, but I did.
The reason I went out of the house without my wallet is because Izaac was with John and wasn't too happy with me leaving to go to bell practice, so when I discovered the missing wallet, I didn't go back in the house. The reason I was stopping for milk was because Izaac was there and John had a couple days off, so we were almost out of milk.
Here's the interesting part. I stopped at Sparky's (our local gas/convenience store in Stanhope) and didn't remember about the missing wallet until I'd picked up the gallon of milk and got it on the counter. There, a fellow cheerleader buddy of my daughter's was working the cash register.
I rarely know the person behind the counter, but this night, I did. It was Nikki. I fumbled in my purse and said, "Oh, man, I forgot my wallet!". Nikki said, "that it was okay, and to take the milk home".
I could have gone the 10-mile round-trip home to get it, but I didn't have to. I offered to get money from the ATM (in Sparky's), but, of course, my ATM card was in my wallet, too. (It always is, but I was not used to being in this position, without wallet or money!)
John was planning on going to Sparky's the next morning to buy gas for the mower and the little red pickup anyway, and I told Nikki this. She said that would be fine, and in this small town, it was. Thanks, Nikki (and Sparky's).