Me: Honey, I can't find my keys, do you know where they are?
Him: You lost the keys again? (shaking his head and think thoughts along the lines of "When is she gonna grow up?" and "Man, what a babe!"
Me: Well, I know they are for sure in this house somewhere. Maybe I left them under the pile of underwear in the bathroom? Let me go check!
Me: Hey! I found em! They were under the bed! Go figure!
Him: Don't lose em again. That would be very bad and expensive to replace!
Me: I Know, I know. Don't worry, I won't. I have seriously learned my lesson. (as my fingers are crossed in my pocket.)
Well, so anyway, after the beginning of this exchange about two weeks ago, and when I went searching high and low, I couldn't find the keys! But I knew they were here! I knew this because the last time I had the keys I had driven the kids to McDonalds and we came all the way home with the keys, obviously. I hadn't left the house after that. So they were in this house.
I searched for two days. I had to make Jacob crawl under the van and find the hide-a-key, which I am proud to say, he is very good at! He's also just as good at putting it back for me.
Since this time, I have found my keys, but I refused to tell hubs. Mostly because he wouldn't ever ever ever let me live it down. And partly because I wanted something from him. I told him I would only tell him where they were if he either guessed it correctly (and yes, I would be honest!) or he bought me a new van.
He guessed at it for three days. And he couldn't get it.
But then he bought me a new van, and surprisingly the subject hasn't come up yet! But, since I'm a
I came home one evening with my hide-a-key in hand to find a message on the answering machine:
"Mrs. Gardner, this is Christy at ______(fill in name of gym I let my membership expire at, but kept the keytag on my chain). I was calling because your keys have been turned in to us and they are at the front desk for you to pick up."Apparently, some dude on a motorcycle was driving down the two lane, country, wind-y road that leads to my neighborhood and he was not paying attention to where he was going and instead was looking down at the road. This sounds like a recipe for diaster to me, but whatever. He spotted my keys, stopped his bike, and turned em in to the gym.
How they got on said road is completely beyond me. But I'd be willing to entertain any ideas you might have.
But, honey, see, I told you I wasn't lying!! They truly were neither in our yard, around our yard, nor inside our house! Thanks for the new van!
4 comments:
They _were_ in your yard until your neighbor's pooping dog ran off with them.
Well, I can honestly say that I would have never guessed that in a million years. Thanks for letting me in on the secret. So in reality you didn't actually lose your keys. They were taken from you.
Love ya,
Steven
Wow that was really nic eof him. It was a pretty funny story. Good thing you belong to a gym!! My keys would have been lost forever!!! LOL!!
One time Bill was talking on the phone outside, and he laid the phone on his back bumper, and forgot about it, and drove off, and the phone landed in the middle of the road about 100 yards from the house. Someone driving down the road saw the phone, picked it up, took it up to the house it was in front of, and that person scrolled the caller I.D. and called the last person who called us, who just happened to be my sister Jennifer, told him the phone was in front of his house, told her where he lived, and she said well my sister lives down the road from you. Jennifer called me at home to tell me my phone was down the street at my nieghbors house.
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