Thursday, April 23, 2009
Crazy search for van key
My wife says it is simply old age.
I say it’s having too many “irons in the fire,” running here and running there, going to our children’s many activities or covering different things for the newspaper.
She also says it is payback. I joke with her all the time about misplacing her keys or forgetting things. Normally the keys are found in the bottom of her very big purse and she just has to dig and dig.
Sunday afternoon, en route to Finley Place to pick up Pilgrimage participant Erin, I suddenly noticed The South Reporter’s green van still parked behind our building in the parking lot of the former funeral home.
I had moved it there last week when the city street department was doing some springtime work – painting parking spaces, lines, etc.
And even though I had thought about it a couple of times that afternoon, I had forgotten to move it back to its normal spot.
Suddenly, I thought, “What did I do with the key to that van?”
I then panicked a bit.
I just knew I had it in the pocket of those jeans I wore to work Friday. I went home and checked the jeans.
Then I started thinking of places where I got the keys to my SportTrac out of my pocket and could have accidentally pulled out the additional key, and it possibly fell to the ground.
I combed the grounds around The South Reporter building where I normally park.
Then I figured with heavy rains we had over the weekend, if it had been there, it washed away.
Pam told me to search my own truck better. I dug several coins, receipts, straw wrappers, pens, a map and even an old watch out from under my seat.
But no van key.
I called Pam back and told her to search the washing machine and the dryer and the dirty clothes hamper.
I went to Potts Camp Friday evening for the baseball game. I figured I might should go check there. I left en route – then suddenly remembered, I moved that van on Thursday, not Friday. I was wearing khakis then. I turned around and headed back to Holly Springs.
Pam was already en route to church.
I told her I would get to church a bit late – as soon as I hurried home and checked the pockets of my khakis.
“I need to solve this and ease my mind,” I said.
She said she’d washed all the khakis.
So that meant if the key and the remote were in there either they would be extra clean or they would not work even if I found them.
I reached in the pockets of one pair of pants.
I grabbed the other pair and heard a jingle. Inside the pocket was the remote and key.
I was relieved.
I made it to church in time for the sermon.
As soon as it was over, Pam asked if I’d found the key.
“Yes,” I replied, “in a pair of the khakis.”
Naturally, her first response was a big smile – almost reaching a laugh.
“I’m getting worried about you,” she said.
She had heard that before – from me.
By the way, the remote and the key worked just fine.
As for me, I don’t know.
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