This is the desperate cry my husband hears Tuesday morning. I am trying to leave for work in time to pick up secured testing documents and greet my students by 7:30. If you have ever read about my mornings you know how hectic they can be, but I digress. I open my purse - no keys. I go to the kitchen - no keys. The breakfast bar - no such luck. Yesterday's pants? Nope. Bathroom vanity, garage, couch, chair, computer??? No, no, no, no, NO! Where could they be?
I begin interrogating my children, "Have you seen my keys?"
#1: "No, mom. Did you try the kitchen?"
#2: (Remember he is three.) "No, mommy."
I have now enlisted my husband who has been through this many a time. He begins to interrogate me. It wasn't a pretty sight; there were tears.
I am to the point of giving up, but remember I have that all important test to administer today. I start thinking of my resources. Hmmm. Dad? No, it would take to long. My husband? No, his car doesn't have the appropriate military pass. Coworkers? No they are all at work by now. What will I do?
In full blown tears, I call my assistant principal. Cooler heads prevail, and she sends her assistant who comes and picks me up in record time. We pull into the parking lot with five minutes to spare.
Because I have already lost two keys (one original that has been missing for over a month and one valet that I have been using until the other turns up,) later that day my mom goes to the dealership for a $46 duplicate. Nice.
You would think that would be the end of this tragic story. Then again you might not.
Today, my dad picks #2 up from the daycare early, so I have to go pick him up from my parents' house. When it is time to leave, #2 gets upset and runs out the front door and runs down the street. Dad grabs him and puts him in the car seat. I start the car using my $46 key and drive to the grocery store, but....
What is that smell!!??!!
Of course it's #2 who has gone #2. I have to change him in the parking lot. I jump out of the car, run around to his side, pull him out, confirm my suspicions (eeww,) drag him around to the side with no car seat ("Don't you dare move,") open the trunk, find a beach towel, lay it down and deal with mess.
After the drama is over (or so one might think,) I go to get my purse and keys...where are my keys? And so it continues...
Are they in the ignition, cup holder, car seat, the trunk? No, no, no, NO! I run around the car frantically checking and rechecking everywhere it could possibly be to no avail. What should I do now?
"I'll be right there," he replies.
During this short five minute wait I continue to scour the car for my keys, scolding my son for moving from the safe spot. I even check the diaper bag thinking I must have laid it in there. I hear a jingle. What could it be? Would you believe it? It's the keys I lost a month ago.
Sheepishly, I wait for my dad to pull into the parking lot. I decide not to tell him until he asks me if I checked my shirt pocket. This is when I have to admit I found the original keys, but the $46 duplicate is still missing.
After 10 minutes of him digging through the mess known as my car, he gives up and tells me to go home, which I am reluctant to do.
"Go home, and look for it there since you found your other keys," he directs.
I agree and begin closing all of the doors. He starts buckling #2 into the car seat again. I close the trunk and hear another jingle.
"Just a minute."
"I'm almost done."
What should our wondering eyes see but a key sticking out of the lock of the trunk.
Needless to say I will have to buy my dad a very big Father's Day present this year.