A few weeks ago, my wife and I locked our keys in the car during church, with the car running. We didn’t realize it until about two hours later as we were about to head to lunch.
So we did the only thing we knew to do. We called a locksmith, who arrived about 30 minutes later. But when he pulled in, we got nervous. As if the idea of breaking into our car wasn’t enough of a concern, when I caught a glimpse of him, my concern grew. He pulled into the parking lot and I swore he was still in high school.
He was giving his best attempt at a beard, in an over-sized t-shirt and shorts on a relatively brisk day. Trash fell out of his car as he opened his door to greet me.
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