My Unlucky Friday?

I had quite the adventure today. This morning I picked up my purse and found it to be far too light. My wallet was missing. I immediately panicked, trying to retrace my steps and where I might have dropped it or left it.

I filled the car with gas the evening before. Did I drop it at the gas station?
Did it fall out of the car when I was getting back in?
Did it fall into the cracks of the car seats?
I had imprudently left my purse near the front door, something I always thought twice about. It is a very convenient place to leave my purse, but it is also dangerous. Someone walked into the house and stole my mom’s purse years before. Did someone come through the unlocked door and steal my wallet from the purse?

All of these thoughts rushed through my head, but I couldn’t confirm any of them.

After I dropped Madeleine off at school (good thing I didn’t get pulled over since I didn’t have a driver’s license), I stopped at the gas station.

“Did anyone find a lost wallet?” I asked the mechanics.

“No,” they reported, but they took my name and number anyway. (Another problem—my wallet didn’t contain my current phone number anywhere within it.)

The younger girls and I then returned home where I cleaned and searched the kitchen. I searched the car earlier in the morning. My stomach had a huge knot in it.

It was time to put a hold on the credit cards. Fortunately we’d recently reduced our cards down to two, so the calls were limited. The customer service reps reported that the most recent purchases were my own. No suspicious card activity—yet.

My stomach continued to churn. How would I get money? My husband was on another continent. I had some extra checks, but I didn’t have ID. No one would cash my check without ID.

How would I get ID? I had an Oregon driver’s license, but I wasn’t in Oregon. Oh, dread the thought of having to take the driver’s test again.

A few hours into this whole process, Elodie asked me casually, “Mommy, do you need money?” Elodie was with me at the gas station and during the search through the house for my wallet. She knew it was missing.

“Yes,” I answered, very suspicious.

She then led me to her room and pointed under her bed. There was my wallet. Elodie had been prowling during the night and taken it from my purse. I found my wallet stashed with my missing scripture highlighter, three unpopped bags of popcorn, and a pacifier. Behold, Elodie’s secret lair.

Lesson learned—I must hide my purse, not from potential thieves, but from my daughter, the prowler.