Lately, David has taken to hiding keys. I don't know why, but I am a realist and have learned not to question such things. I accept them and just hang my keys up higher. Angie is a pluralist, though, and refused to move her keys because David is not supposed to touch them. I was at work when reality laughed at Angie's world.'Where are my keys?!'
'Uh, good morning to you, too.'
'WHERE ARE MY KEYS??!!'
'I have no idea - you didn't leave them on the desk again, did you?'
'Yes, they were there last night. I know they were there. What am I going to do?'
'Two options - take a taxi to work or go get David out of kindergarten and force him to find them.'
'That doesn't help me!'
'What would?'
Click....
I had a meeting to go to and I swear to you, I cracked up the entire hour thinking of how Angie was frantically panicking around the house. The image was funnier than watching Bush dodge a shoe. After the meeting, I called the keyless.
'Did you find them?'
'Yeah.'
The fact that she offered no explanation told me that she did not find them. I said nothing, though, and after a long pause, she reluctanly explained.
'Yeah, so - After tearing the place apart, I finally gave up. I dragged David out of kindergarten and asked him if he knew where my keys were. He ran into the bedroom, went under his bed, opened a box, pulled out a treasure bag and 'found' my keys. He then explained that Tommy probably put them there.'
'Damn it, when is Tommy going to learn?.'
