The Basket by the Door

We have a basket by the front door that is to be used for keys and cell phones. It was my brilliant idea (of course), so I’m always a bit fanatical that it’s being utilized correctly. What this means is that when Bub forgets to put a set of keys in The Basket by the Door, I must search for them - which I will do for a grand total of about 15 seconds because – after all – if they were in The Basket by the Door, I wouldn’t have to search at all. So, after an excruciating 15 seconds of searching, I resort to questioning (aka badgering) her as to the whereabouts of the lost keys. This usually happens at 5am or another unreasonable hour when I’m trying to rush out the door to work. The conversation goes a bit like this (with me speed talking and Bub groggily talking the whole time):

ME: Where are the keys? I need the keys. Where have you put the keys? Are you awake because I need the keys.

BUB: Huh?

ME: KEYS! I need the KEYS! You know if they were in The Basket by the Door I wouldn’t need to wake you up and bother you. I could just go to work. You really need to use The Basket by the Door. That’s what it’s there for. So, where are they? Are they in your bag? [Under breath] because they certainly aren’t in The Basket by the Door.

BUB: [Rummaging] I can still hear you. I’m asleep, not deaf.

ME: I’ve got to go. Where are the keys? [Sarcastically] Oh, thank you. I love you. Please use The Basket by the Door from now on. Bye.

So, when Bub called me this morning and asked me if I had the keys, I of course replied “No – look in The Basket by the Door” to which she came unglued because, of course, she had already looked there! So, as I looked unconcernedly through my own bag, I thought little of the problem because she surely has lost the keys, how could she be so irresponsible, and [GASP!!!!!] Holy cats! The keys are NOT in The Basket by the Door, they are in my friggin bag! And, I’ve carpooled! AND, it’s not like we live 10 minutes away! We live almost an hour from work! AND, she needs to be to go to the store and be to work in less than two hours!

Uh-oh. I’m in trouble, and so is Bub! Without these keys, she not only has no way of getting to work on time, but also no way of driving anywhere with the boys. Needless to say, she is HOT. No, wait. She is LIVID. No, wait. Her HEAD IS ABOUT TO EXPLODE. (Although, I must give her credit. She didn’t curse very much while on the phone with me. She’s making progress. I cannot vouch for the moments immediately following our conversation, though.)

I made a hasty phone call to Good Friend who just works down the street who agrees to let me borrow her car. So, I jump on the bus to Friend’s work and pick up her car. Then, I speed home as quickly as I dare. As soon as I turn onto our street, the gas light of Friend’s car comes on. Oh, great – something else to deal with. (No fault of Good Friend since she hadn’t planned to make a trip 45 miles away this morning!) This, in turn, threatens to finalize the previously mentioned cranial explosion but only AFTER she wrings my neck.

So, we fly to the gas station– me flustered and driving the boys and her in Friend’s car surely cursing the day I was born. My next brilliant idea is that I can go to the store for her after dropping the boys at grandma’s house. This way, she can get to work on time, and the supplies will arrive shortly thereafter. Apparently, I expected her to read my mind because when she didn’t immediately agree to what I was saying, I shouted at her in the gas station parking lot. (In my flimsy defense, she stomped off in anger, and I was already humiliated that I had breached The Basket by the Door etiquette. AND, she knows that I hate being wrong or making mistakes…. I know, not a good excuse to lose my temper.)

So, after gassing up, we both speed into the city and go our separate ways for a few minutes. I drop the boys at grandmas; she heads to work (and makes it in the nick of time). Then, we still need to swap cars, return Good Friend’s car to her, and I need to get back to work ASAP (via bus – ha ha) because I still had tons of documentation left to do before a big 2:30 meeting.

Lessons learned from this fiasco:
#1 - We’ve had this vehicle for over a year with just one set of keys. We mean to get them every time we go to the store, but we seem to forget every time. We will be getting them this weekend FOR SURE.
#2 - I will never nag Bubba again about The Basket by the Door.