After a full weekend of fun, we were all tired and hot and cranky when got home from movies and lunch with friends on Sunday. So, we just threw some garbage away, got a couple of things from the car (not wanting to unload everything), went into the baking hot house, and that was that. We didn't do much else.
On Monday, Bub called me and asked me where the keys were. How would I know? She drove it home. She had the keys. I didn't touch them. Well, she had placed them on the table, but they were no longer there. So, she tore the house up looking for them to no avail. She finally had to call my dad. He stopped what he was doing, picked them and the car seats up, and took them to Stansbury where they all piled into the big truck so that they could go in to SLC for some appointments. That was money we hadn't planned to spend on gas....
So, on Tuesday, she kept looking and looking and looking for these keys. Finally, she called me and said "I may have thrown them away when I got out of the car. They were in my hand, and I was throwing some other stuff away." Now, this wouldn't be a stretch since she recently threw out a remote control. It also wouldn't be a big deal except that Monday is our garbage pick-up day. If they were thrown away, they were also already in the landfill. Son of a....
About four hours later, she called again with an update:
Car keys: found
Location: window sill of front room behind curtains
(Of course they were. Why wouldn’t they be there?)
Culprit: Meatball
Response: Oh, yeah!
(Kind of like – “hmmm… now I remember.”)
Number of copies being made TODAY: 4
(along with house and big truck)
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