Travis When I read your original post I thought about a funny story that happened to a friend of my mother.

My mother and father walk every morning with friends at a local shopping mall; the youngest in the group is around 75 years old. One morning several years ago one of the little old ladies came and reported to the group that her car had been stolen from the mall parking lot just the morning before, everyone was shocked that this had happened and began to wonder about the security of their own cars. After walking she had gone to where she always parked and it was not there, walked around several aisles, called security and then toured the entire parking lot in search of her car, then finally the police were called in with yet another tour of the lot and a lot of questioning then filed a formal report of the theft. She notified her insurance carrier when she got home and gave them the police report and after several days the insurance company was prepared to pay the claim. SO, with her son she went out and bought a new car.

After a few weeks she received a phone call “Mrs. #####, This is Sears Automotive Department, your shock absorbers have been installed and we have been trying to reach you for several weeks but the number you gave us was wrong. Please come pick up your car.” OOPS, That jogged her memory. . . she had dropped the car off to have new shocks put on, like the man at the service station had suggested, and was going to walk the mall with her friends while Sears installed them.

She called her son, and he called the police to explain what happened, then the insurance company. She was allowed to keep the new car, the insurance company picked up the old one (they now owned it). And her SON took the new car and the keys. . . IT WAS TIME FOR HER TO GIVE UP THE CAR!

Travis. . . . Is it “Time?”