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Wednesday, May 11, 2011

St Anthony Pray for ME

We were out of toilet paper so Julie, heading off to work asked me to go get some. I said I would and when I  was ready to set off for the store I could not find my keys.

I'm kind of legendary for losing my keys, and have made a real effort to put distance between the lost key episodes. In the past when I worked nights and suffered from very serious mind numbness that I suspect all night shift workers suffer from.  Just before I had to get to work, I would rush around the house frantic, would get everyone worked up and involved in my malfeasance, and key quest, causing everyone a collective adrenal dump just before their bedtime. This struggle would almost always involve my wife dropping the dreaded, "where did you have them last?" posit?  While I was searching for my keys I would go blank with rage. I think plaque forms around these brain bruises. "IF I KNEW WHERE I HAD THEM LAST THEY WOULDN'T BE LOST NOW WOULD THEY DEAR."  So today's episode of me looking in the usual suspect spots 3 and 4 times, slithering on my belling under the bed, under furniture,  moving things around looking up high and low, was perfectly futile.

Today my wife Julie was very kind about it, answering my texted please.  She ran down the list of spots I've hidden them in the past. Check, check, quadruple check.... "Wow, you really lost them this time."   "I KNOW!"

I finally gave up, I surrendered, letting my brain go blank and attempted to recreate the night before.   The last place I remembered having them was the dining room when I rushed in with two large bags from Athens Cafe.  I had dropped the bags on the table and sat down to pick through the food with Josh and Julie.  I don't remember the keys after that. So part of todays search was pawing through the kitchen garbage for the keys.

After dinner the civil defense sirens had sounded, and the sky was lemon green, so we discussed going into the basement, but instead followed Julie out to the front door to look at the western sky. She whistling the "Wicked Witch" theme from Wizard of OZ. Otherwise known in our house as Julie's theme. (Another story for another time.)  We were outside watching the storm come in, admiring our garden, when it started to hail. We argued about how big the hail was. It was pretty impressive cracks, pings, Hollywood ricochet sounds.



In utter desperation I went back into the dining room.  I was looking around the toaster when something caused me to look down INTO the toaster.

There were my keys. IN THE TOASTER. So ok I concede looking in the last place I remember having them worked. It only pains me a little to concede, but the concept does NOT work when you're panicked.

Darn gremlins.