The kids and I didn't make it to church this morning. Totally legitemate excuse though today. I lost the keys and locked myself out of the house. Again. I'm thinking it's time for one of those keypad thingies that you put on your garage doors and punch in a code to get in. People like me clearly need those things. After a quick yet thorough search through my purse and pockets I declared my keys lost and then checked all the doors to the house to see if I did in fact lock them all. I did. Sometimes I wish I weren't so thorough about that. Usually about once a year when I lock myself out I wish that.
This time I had my phone in my coat pocket so I could make an emergency call to my sister. Thank goodness she is always late for church so I knew I would catch her on her way. Her tardiness was a lifesaver today. The last time I locked myself out I wasn't so lucky. That time I got to meet some of my neighbors as I knocked on doors looking for someone to be home and willing to share their phone with me. Dennis, or "the blue house neighbors" as my kids like to call them, was my lifesaver that day.
While we waited in the cold truck for my sister, Princess Blondie informed me that one reason she doesn't like winter is because we always get locked out of our house (She was lucky enough to get locked out of the house with me the first time too). I tell her there is no correlation between the two other than her mother has crappy timing and a knack for misplacing things.
My sister and her family soon show up and let me in my house. They hurry off to church. I go in the house and still can't find my keys anywhere. I go out to tell my kids to get out of the truck because we aren't going to make it to church or anywhere else and find them screaming at each other with Princess Blondie in tears because her brother is copying her. My day just keeps getting better and better.
Now, my keys are always in my coat pocket so this is the time when I start to blame my husband because clearly he took my keys. It's always the man's fault. But usually if he takes my keys he at least takes my truck key off the ring so I can, you know, drive places. So now I think maybe he didn't actually take them and that I dropped them in the new five inches of snow that showered on us this morning.
I go out and start digging around in the snow hoping I will somehow spot them. I don't. I try retracing my steps. I could have sworn they were in my hand when I walked out of the house this morning. Then I remembered I had also carried out a bag of broccoli and hotdog buns in that hand for lunch at my sisters after church. I had set those in the passenger seat. I go and check under the broccoli. There are my keys. Sitting there in the truck the whole time. I think I will try retracing my steps first next time. And I maybe owe my sister an apology for making them really, really late for church today for no reason at all.
