“Where are my keys?” “Honey, have you seen my keys and glasses.” As a new bride I anticipated hearing “I Love You” on a fairly frequent basis but Alas! It was not to be. In our house the watch words coming forth from my new hubby were concerned with the location of his keys: house keys, office keys, car keys, boat keys. You get the idea.
Hubby also had a bad habit of carrying his keys in his hand. Once, stepping onto our boat, keys in hand, he grabbed for a handhold and plunk, there went the keys to the briny deep, as they say. Fortunately, harbor water at a boat anchorage isn’t too deep and a nearby worker in scuba gear, scrubbing the hull of another boat was able to retrieve the keys for us. I threatened to have his keys surgically attached to his rib cage with one of those pull out cords available for when a key was actually needed.
I came to anticipate that the most often said words when we were going out were not “Honey, are you ready?,” or “Hurry up,” or “Do you have the directions,” but rather, “Honey, have you seen my keys?.” After a few years the one fortunate upside of needing to wear glasses all the time was that they were normally on his face and thus rarely lost. Ah, but those keys.
There have been some temporary solutions. A nice wooden box for the dresser worked well until it became filled with other stuff and there was no space for keys. A basket by the door worked well for some time but also turned out to be the perfect place for the remote for the garage door opener and other items associated with leaving the house.
Once, leaving a meeting very late at night we were sitting in the car when hubby couldn’t find his keys to start the engine. We were inside the car so one of us must have unlocked it, but we had walked to the car with briefcases and handouts, chatting friends from the meeting and stood and talked for some time in the parking lot, losing track of time, and locks, and, well, keys. Hubby went back inside the building and looked. No keys. Flashlight in hand he checked the parking lot. No keys. By now it was close to midnight and the next day was a workday. Hoping that the keys had somehow fallen into something we were carrying he used my keys and we headed home. In a few minutes we were on the freeway. I became aware of an unusual sound. Clunking, slight jingle, clunking, slight jingle. I asked hubby to pull to the slow lane as I lowered my window and stuck out my hand. Yep, there they were. One key in the lock while the others had been merrily jingling along at 70 miles an hour!
We’ve had our share of adventures with those keys, or lack thereof. Why just yesterday as we got my mother and her walker out of the car and headed to the doctor’s office hubby went to reach for his keys and they weren’t in his pocket. They weren’t in any of the cup holders either. A bit confusing, but we have a keyless ignition. So as long as the key is in the car somewhere the car will start, and it probably read the signal from my keys, not his keys. One way to know whether his keys were in the car? I used the button lock on the door. If the keys are in the car the lock doesn’t work. I shut the door. It was locked. Hubby got the “wife” look, but he was saved by a phone call. I took Mom into the office and a few minutes later began texting Mom’s home care companion. “Do you see a set of keys anywhere?” “No” she replied. I text Hubby – “No keys at Mom’s.” Hubby texts back “I think they were in my jacket.” I text the caregiver “Look in his jacket please.” She texts back “No jacket here.” Luckily, at that point, the Dr. walked in and I had to concentrate on the appointment.
We left the office and hubby says he is sure they are at Mom’s house and in his jacket. On the way to lunch he stops by the house and there they are, in his jacket pocket, which he had left hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Oh yeah, isn’t that the first place you would look – the bathroom door?
Hubby says it’s no big deal. Not me I really like the idea of having keys surgically attached to his rib cage.
Can anyone relate?
Every Day Is A Good Day. VJ