Although I tried to think of every way it could possibly be Alex’s fault that I couldn’t find the car keys this morning, I couldn’t come up with anything.
Last I remembered having them yesterday, I had been standing at Sam’s bus stop holding them. Then I came home to a play date and no one else used the car or the keys after that.
This morning, with a house full of kids (most of them mine) that I had to get to school and a coffee date at ten, I completely couldn’t find the keys. I could feel the minutes ticking away and knew that if Sam was late getting to drop off, I was going to have to unbuckle three extra kids to walk him into the office to sign him in late.
Determined not to be stupid, I checked pockets, bags, and all the other ridiculous places I tend to find keys after I lose them.
Usually it only takes three or four frantic minutes to find them, but today it took fifteen minutes and three or four frantic phone calls (three to try to blame the situation on Alex, and one to my playdate from yesterday to see if she had noticed where I put my keys down) before I found them.
In my purse.
(Although in my defense, it wasn’t a purse I had used at all this week.)
Maybe it can be Alex’s fault that we only have one set of keys.