Embarrassing Admission

Turns out our home, which we reported had been broken into and burgled, wasn't. 

We were sure it had been, because our DVR was (and still is) missing.  So, apparently, are our brains.  The boy who mows our yard and has ever since he was big enough to puch a mower and is now a high school junior came over the other day and discussed with Demetrios his ambtion to be a doctor.  Anyway, he also reminded us that we had packaged up that DVR and had paid him (handsomely) to mail it back to Verizon for us.  Which he did.

Yes, of course!  I do remember now.  When I put our account on suspended status, a Verizon rep on the phone asked me to return the DVR and gave me the address. 

Don't know why Verizon didn't receive it.  Or why the rep wanted it back, as the rep more recently told us they wouldn't have needed or wanted it to be returned.

Anyway, it's all taken care of now, and it's nice to know our house was not burgled after all.

Now to camouflage my embarrassment, I'll pass on a joke my neighbor has sent me, about an even more embarrassing Senior Moment.

Several days ago as I left a meeting at our church, I desperately gave myself a personal pat down. I was looking for my keys. They were not in my pockets. A quick search in the meeting room revealed nothing.

Suddenly I realized, I must have left them in the car. Frantically, I headed for the parking lot. My wife, Diane, has scolded me many times for leaving the keys in the ignition. My theory is the ignition is the best place not to lose them. Her theory is that the car would be stolen. As I burst through the doors to the parking lot, I came to a miserable conclusion. Her theory was right. The parking lot was empty.

I immediately called the police. I gave them my location, confessed that I had left my keys in the car, and reported that it had been stolen.

Then I made the most difficult phone call of all, “Honey,” I stammered. (I always call her “honey” in times like these.) “I left my keys in the car, and it has been stolen.”

There was a period of silence. I thought the call had been dropped, but then I heard Diane’s voice. “Ken” she barked, “I dropped you off!”

Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, “Well, come and get me.”

Diane retorted, “I will, as soon as I convince this policeman I have not stolen your car!”