Has anyone seen my keys? They look like this:
(Yes, I understand the irony of the keychain, but that is not the Extremely Ironic Twist. Read on for that little gem.)
I took the Bean shopping this afternoon and came home and at some point… they vanished. I’ve searched under the couch and under the bed and in the bathroom and in the garage and under the kitchen sink, even though I haven’t been in the garage OR under the sink since I got home (at least not that I remember but let’s face it, at this point anything is possible).
Seriously, HAS ANYONE SEEN MY GODDAMNED KEYS?
No, I didn’t have big plans for tonight to go anywhere… the Big Bean is working, so the plan is Sesame Street, dinner, bedtime for the Bean, blogging and bed. But at some point I’m going to need those keys and I’m a worst-case scenario person so all I can think about is how the hell I’m going to get myself and the Bean to the hospital if somebody breaks a toe. (Yes, I know that’s not the WORST-case scenario but I really can’t let my mind go anyplace further than that; I’m dealing with enough here, don’t you think?)
And don’t say “an ambulance” because I think of an ambulance as an absolute last resort and I’m sure they would frown upon my calling them for a broken toe just because I can’t find my goddamned keys. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure my health insurance doesn’t cover dumbass-lost-her-keys-again ambulance fees.
Oh God, now I’m feeling a lot like a rat trapped in a cage, or maybe more like someone who’s been found guilty of being a dumbass and is now in prison, if prison was a three-bedroom, two-bath with a baby in the next cell.
I’ve checked the Bean very closely because he loves my keys and likes to play with them so I often let him. But he doesn’t have them and I’ve followed his little bean steps and haven’t found them and I’m pretty sure they’re too big for him to eat. (Although that is something I’ve said before and been wrong about.) That would be one hell of a diaper to change if he did, though.
I took this picture earlier today because I was planning to write a post about all of the things that I lose the most and how frustrating it is and how much time I waste looking for things when I should know where they are because I just had the thing in my hand like two seconds ago but now it’s just GONE. And also how I think the reason might be all the pot I smoked in my early twenties (seriously, it was a fucking LOT) and let that be a lesson to all you young people. It was going to be a Very Inspiring and Educational Post.
But now I can’t Educate or Inspire anyone because I’m too busy looking for my goddamned keys. And I’m trapped in the house with no way out except maybe a bicycle, which I can’t use because we don’t have a trailer for the Bean and it’s not like I can just leave him here to fend for himself while I head to the hills in a rampant fit of blazing claustrophobia. Not even if I take the baby monitor with me.
And besides, I don’t ever want to ride a bike anywhere because I’m always very wobbly and totally aware of what an ass I look like and I just know that all of the people in the cars passing by are really laughing at me. (Which actually happened once, a group of teenagers in a convertible passed by me and I wobbled right into a fence and they all laughed as they drove away, hence my paranoia. Fucking youths.)
And the worst part about THAT is, I used to ride a bike like a little speed demon — “Look Mom, no hands!” and the whole bit – but somewhere along the way it’s like I just FORGOT HOW TO RIDE A BIKE even though that’s the one thing people say you never forget. It’s a bone of contention with the Big Bean because he’s a fancypants cyclist and he always wants me to go out on the bikes with him but I refuse because of the whole I Forgot How to Ride a Bike thing and he says “You never forget how to ride a bike” and I say “Well, I did” and then a whole argument discussion follows and by the time it’s over it’s too late to ride bikes and I get my way (but there’s always a price to pay for that).
Anyway, I still can’t find my keys. You know how you lose something and you just KNOW it’s in the most obvious place in the house and you’ve probably looked right at it like 15 times but you just didn’t SEE it? That’s how I’m feeling right now.
Has anyone seen my keys?
UPDATE: Found them!! Guess where they were and I’ll give you a prize. I’ll post the answer this Saturday, to satisfy your rabid curiosity… try not to lose too much sleep over it…
For those of you who are interested (and I know at least two or three of you are out there on pins and needles), here’s where I finally found my keys:
Ignition of the car. Now why didn’t I think of that?
Allison from That’s What She Blogged got it right. Not only did she guess the answer (and gets a prize! woo hoo!), she also gets a plug here for her excellent blog, which I visit often. Congratulations, Allison — You win a small prize, my undying admiration and maybe a couple of my seven readers will head over your way.
For the record, it took about two hours of turning the house inside out before I found them. We never did have to go to the hospital for anything, the little Bean and I are still intact (well, my sanity, maybe not so much). But during that time I did NOT run screaming from the house in a fit of claustrophobic mania, so I’m chalking this one up in the positive column.
I’m so silly.Stumble it!