Oh, wait. THAT WASN'T ME.
I looked for my keys for over an HOUR this morning. I looked for them, retraced my steps from last night, thought where I might have dropped them, and looked some more.
I went through the laundry and the garbage. I called my husband at work and my son at kindergarten (he told me to look in the key drawer. Thanks, son.)
I had to find my keys because I had errands to run, a meeting to attend (which I missed,) and I was hoping to spend some quality time (or its modern equivalent; QT is so eighties) with the younger kids, who were waiting for me in the car.
Finally, near tears and at my wit's end, I called SJ for the fourth time and asked him to leave work to bring me his key (we don't have an extra set since it's one of those keys with a chip in it and I already lost the valet key.)
He gallantly agreed, and even pushed back a meeting with his boss.
As I hung up the phone, I walked into the living room, a room I hadn't visited in the last two days. There, on the corner of the train table, peeking out from under some toys, were my keys.
Son of a *$^%@.
So, rather than curse the little
And off we went.
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4 comments:
http://www.truveo.com/Put-your-keys-in-the-keybowl/id/3514342291
(The whole routine is funnier but the snippet of the snotty husband going on about the key bowl is pretty good...)
I find myself muttering that too. Were the keys a substitute for Percy? I bet scary Sir Topham Hatt took them.
Are you saying you cannot appreciate a little hide and seek on occasion? Don't you have all the time in the world to spare?
This happened to me last fall. Except when I finally found them, they were stuck to the magnet clip holding the cheesey puffs closed in the pantry. I still have NO idea how they got there! I found your blog today and will be reading, very entertaining!
http://loprestilunacy.blogspot.com/2008/09/almost-several-hundred-dollar-cheetos.html
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