I was just a kid. Things were different. The milkman delivered to the front door. The public utilities guy, when necessary, let himself through the rear basement entrance to read the water or gas meter. People were honest. No one thought anything of leaving the basement door unlocked.

JoAnn was a neighbor and friend of my parents. I was too young to hear the story, but I heard it anyway. She was doing laundry in the basement. The washing machine wasn’t quite full, and clothes she had on were dirty. Home alone, she stripped to her birthday suit, filled the machine, and started the load.

Before she went upstairs, JoAnn heard a knock on the front door. “It’s just the milkman,” she thought. She’d wait till he left and get on with her day.

Moments later, the meter reader stepped through the basement door. There she stood, wearing nothing but an embarrassed smile. She blurted out the only thing that came to mind:

“Oh, I thought you were the milkman.”

True story.

I wonder what that meter man thought. Sometimes you just have to laugh. Make sure you take time to laugh.