We lived in a child friendly neighborhood with no fences.  There were our four kids, the next door neighbor’s four kids, and others…many others.  Keeping track of them and doing other necessary things was hard.  I heard a knock on the front door.  I yanked the door open and was in the middle of asking “What now?” when I saw Mark from the house across the street.

He smiled at me and asked, “May I talk to ______ for a minute?”

My mind raced.  “Sure, Mark.”  I said.  I found _______ in his underwear and nothing else in the sandbox.  Mark bent down to my little one’s size and asked him:  “Do you know where the keys are to my lawn tractor?” My heart skipped a beat. My son was just out of diapers.  Why would he know about keys to Mark’s lawn tractor?”

Well, I was told.  It was apparent that my son would go and sit on his big lawn tractor in Mark’s garage.  I did not know that.  Mark left his keys in the tractor’s ignition.  I gasped in horror, knowing that my son knew how to start our car with ease if he had the keys.

_______________shook his head and dug in the sand.  He was remarkably non-verbal.  He made up for this by his acute motor skills.

I apologized to Mark.  I told him that I would search the premises for his lawn tractor keys.  I did not find them, needless to say.  Fall and Winter came and went and I was hosing sidewalk chalk off the driveway that Spring when I saw something on the tongue of our boat trailer.  It was Mark’s lawn tractor keys.

Of course, Mark had made new keys made.  But, I handed him the old keys.  I told him where I found them.  Mark did not ever leave his keys in his lawn tractor again.