Feb 22, 2016 3 min read

Anytime my family is dressed and ready to go somewhere, a couple of things are almost certain to happen. First, someone will have forgotten to grab something from the house, thereby needing to run back up the sidewalk to retrieve it. The second possibility is one of them will suddenly need to use the restroom. The third possibility – that I will have lost my keys – is equally likely to happen.

I should find one spot to put them and then ALWAYS put them there, but I don’t. I casually toss them on the counter, the table, my desk or any other flat surface I see when I realize they are still in my hand. Then, when we need to go somewhere, I have to search each flat surface for said keys, which I do as subtly and silently as possible until forced to seek help.

This is to limit the amount of merciless teasing I must endure from my family.

Also, to make sure you are seeing the full picture, understand this is not a tiny key ring. I have my car key, a key to my husband’s truck, keys to my office, my house and to my sister’s house on there. I also carry a couple of keys for various gates, gas tanks and padlocks, as well as a small contingent of grocery store car key fobs.

It should be difficult to lose.

Last week, we attended the eldest’s band concert, her next-to-last one as a high schooler. I enjoy hearing them play, as our high school has a high-quality band. We listened to the middle school play first, and then the older kids took the stage. It was a nice performance by all.

I got cold in the middle of it, and draped my coat over my legs. I often get cold when sitting still (my kids tell me I must be getting old.) I was fine once I could stand up and start moving around.

As we began to mosey out of our seats at the end, I began digging for my keys in my purse. When I couldn’t find them in there, I checked my jeans pockets and then my coat pockets. Panic began to well up inside me. Finally, I asked my husband if he had them, and saw the look on his face when he said no.

I retraced my steps to our seat. No keys.

I walked out to the car and looked inside its locked recesses. No keys.

I checked my pockets one more time. No keys.

Just when I was about to cry, I thought I heard them jingle. I whipped around to see from where the noise originated, but couldn’t. I heard them again, however, so I kept turning and looking. Soft jingle, but no sighting of them.

Finally, I figured out where the noise was coming from. It was coming from my hood. While my coat was draped across my knees, I stuck my keys in the hood of my coat. Yeesh.

I was so relieved to be able to head home, the merciless teasing that my family gave me didn’t bother me too much.

I knew I earned it this time.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.