We moved The Johnnie home from college today. Well, correction. We moved her STUFF home…
The Johnnie stayed behind. Tomorrow she will be watching her friends graduate. (She graduates NEXT year!) And then a group of them will be heading to the beach. It was an easy move-out, nice and sunny but not too hot.
EXCEPT. There was one little problem… Hit it, Maestro!
Yes. I could not find my keys. We searched everywhere. No joy. In places we didn’t think they could be. Nada. Fortunately, Bearded Brewer had a duplicate set of keys on his keyring, so I drove home using his. And once we got stuff home, I searched carefully in the boxes and things I helped her pack. You’d think they would turn up. That would be “no”…
So before I headed for bed, I thought I’d check the car ONE MORE TIME. What could it hurt? I felt silly, but I grabbed the mega flashlight from the garage and started going through the car systematically. I looked under the seats, behind the middle row and… there they were. Somehow the keys slipped out of my hand when we were trying to adjust the seats to put the harp in the car. They slid down onto the floor of the 3rd row of seats. Once the seats are folded down, that space is completely hidden. Yet, there they were.
All evening I’ve been worrying and feeling slightly stupid. I have habits that I try to do consistently with important items like keys, glasses, work ID, etc, because, well, if I don’t put things where they belong, this is what happens. On the plus side, I have my keys.
I just wish I didn’t feel so stupid.