My wife called a few minutes after leaving this morning. “I forgot my purse. I’m coming back, but I’m running late. It’s the black leather purse in the closet. Could you meet me at the curb with it, please?” Of course. In my bulbous blue terry-cloth bath robe and with bare feet, I stood with the purse dangling from my arm on the sidewalk in front of my house, obviously waiting. Several neighbors and the school bus drove by, and all slowed as they passed. I got some amazing stares with wide eyes. Sheepishly, I smiled and waved. Hmmm. Probably none of the neighbors will come to my barbecue this year.