The wheels on the bus go round and round.

Today I locked my keys in my car. I checked the doors and trunk several times to make sure nothing was unlocked. I could see the keys sitting in the front seat. Staring at me. And if keys could laugh, I have no doubt they would be laughing at me as well.

I was clear across town---about 20 minutes from home so I didn't want to have to call someone to come and get me. I wanted to figure this out for myself.

I called my husband who is out of town. I knew he couldn't do anything but figured some sympathy would be nice.

"Did you check the doors?" he asked.

Next, I wandered over to the store and casually informed the men who were talking out front that I'd locked my keys in the car.

"Did you check the doors?" they asked.

Skeptical of my competence, they accompanied me to my car to check the doors for themselves. Then one of the men checked my window and decided there wasn't any way to shove a hanger in without doing some serious damage. The other man suggested using a rock to break the window and then offered to drive me home.

Fortunately a bus pulled into the parking lot right at that moment so I thanked the men and ran over to the bus.

I rode the bus for a while before realizing that there are many different buses and maybe I should've checked the destination before boarding. The man who sat down next to me started listing all the ways you could kill someone and make it look like an accident. (His uncle has a large wood chipper, a pit of snakes, etc.) He then asked me what methods I've used that have been successful.

I pulled the rope and got off the bus.

20 minutes later another bus stopped by. Learning from my mistake, I asked the driver if this bus would take me to Bridgeport. He said no, but he would drop me off at a different stop where I could catch another bus to take me where I wanted to go.

People on buses are very friendly and talked about who was hiring and the best cell phone plans. After a couple of stops a man sat down across from me and kept giving me dirty looks. He wouldn't stop staring at me and finally came over and told me that I was sitting in his seat.

I moved. And got off at the next stop.

There I waited for my third and final bus where a lady sat down behind me. She started asking everyone on the bus if they had an extra room she could use. She had left her boyfriend and wasn't going back to live with him. No one had an extra room for her. She tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I had a couch she could sleep on.

Luckily we passed by the library in town and I was able to pull the rope and get off the bus.

I had reassessed my plan to be self sufficient and called a friend to pick me up and drive me back to my car. Not that I didn't want another two-hour bus ride, or that the people I met weren't interesting enough, but I just wanted to get my car.

Tomorrow is another day. I'm hoping for a dull, uneventful, boring day. No more bus rides.

It's a sign.

This morning there was a "For Sale" sign in our neighbors yard. I was flabergasted. I mean, I'd not heard anything about them moving. Not a whisper! And we carpool. Every day.

I know I shouldn't feel betrayed, but for pete's sake, we've raised our children together for the past 12 years or so. It's almost like we're family!

So all morning at church I sulked and brooded over the impending move. It's not like I actually expected them to call and ask for my permission or approval or anything. But it would have been nice...

Anyway, my husband and I spent the drive home from church speculating why they could be moving: new job, bigger/smaller house, etc.

"Maybe they don't like their neighbors?" my husband suggested.

"No," I insisted with confidence. (If that were the case they would've put the for sale sign in OUR yard.)

Immediately after getting home, I ran next door to confront them.

My neighbor laughed as I ran up his driveway. He said that they were just as surprised as we were to wake up with a "For Sale" sign in their yard.

My neighbor thought it was most likely someone's idea of a joke. (And not a very funny joke, I might add.)

In the end, it turns out that my neighbors won't be moving after all. What a relief!

For future reference: If they do decide to move, I would like at least 60 days notice. In writing. Please.

Honesty is the best policy.

Last night we were skyping with Sarah and Heather. They mentioned a talk my husband gave when the kids were little. I remembered it. It was a classic family moment. I was sure I'd written a blog about it. I looked for it, but I couldn't find it...so I guess I didn't write about it. It was too good to miss so I thought I'd write about it now.

Several years ago my husband gave a talk at church on honesty. The kids were little and I'll just say that they had listening issues. Anyway, he was talking about the time we went to the Virgin Islands on a business trip. He rented a car but the island was so small, we walked everywhere. When it was time to return the car we decided not to fill up the tank since we'd only driven it back and forth from the airport.

Anyway, by the time he had to sign the paperwork saying he had filled the tank, he felt so guilty he left to get more gas, almost making us miss our return flight.

Back to me and the kids: I was sitting in between Nicholas and Heather, to keep them from talking to each other. Nicholas turned to me to ask, "What's going on?" I was about to explain what their dad was talking about when Heather answered, "I'm not sure, but I think dad stole a car."

Then the older, wiser sister Sarah added, "And he felt really guilty about it."