This morning Rhiannon woke up and said she had her best night’s sleep in a while. Yesterday, our high temperature for the day was one degree, and it was negative most of the day. A week ago Tuesday morning, we had about 4 inches of snow. I think all of these things are related. Last Friday, I got a phone call at my desk. I seem to get a lot more of these calls when Rhiannon is out of school on her breaks, but this one was quite specific. Had I seen her keys?
I took this to imply that she thought I had her keys with me, but I quick check of my pockets and coat proved that I was the proud owner of my own set of keys, a wallet, cell phone, and a little pocket lint. No mistaken taking of the spouse’s keys here, thank you very much.
Unfortunately, that meant that she didn’t know where her keys were. Usually, I am the one who loses things like that in the house. (See: How to lose your cell phone for three days under the passenger seat of your wife’s car, only to have her finally find it for you written, edited, and masterfully executed by your’s truly.)
I have a bad tendency to scatter my daily possessions randomly throughout the house when I come home from work. In a three room apartment, this wasn’t such a big deal, but in a larger house, it does make for some interesting mornings, especially when the house becomes cluttered and the missing item is required to start the car.
One of the contributing factors to Rhiannon not knowing where her keys were was the fact that she hasn’t had to leave the house during the day. We go out in the evenings sometimes, but I’ve been driving and using my own keys.
So, from Friday, we started backtracking – when was the last time she drove without me. Monday. Was that the last time she had her keys? No, she checked the mail on Tuesday during the day (the day there was snow). And the worst part – she cleaned the house on Wednesday, so the clutter that so often plagues me was a non-factor in our search.
And we looked a little bit on Friday. We went over all the normal areas, checked the pockets of every coat (including mine) downstairs, and looked around everywhere they might have been dropped.
On Saturday, we started getting a little more serious, because it was going on 24 hours, and they weren’t turning up yet. We walked the street and sidewalks between our house and mailbox, in case they were dropped and still laying out there. I tried to figure out if a snow plow could have pushed a set of keys down the storm drain. We started looking in weird places that keys would have no business being, like the lazy-susan in the kitchen and the basket we keep library books.
On Sunday, I went back through the garbage bag that Rhiannon took out on Wednesday after cleaning. We looked upstairs. We looked downstairs. We checked the basement. We started discussing what was on her keychain and what we needed to replace in case she had dropped the keys outside and someone else had them.
The key-fob to her car could lead to the location of our house pretty easily. Keys to the house, mailbox, and both cars… in other words, we had some work to do to replace and reprogram everything.
Yesterday, Rhiannon called me to ask how thoroughly I had gone through the trash. It was trash day, and our garbage bin was sitting out, with the possibility that the keys were in it. So she decided to have a good look through everything, just for some peace of mind.
Being that it was cold out yesterday and she didn’t really want to sift through a week’s worth of trash in the house, she went upstairs to grab her warm winter jacket. The same jacket that she put on a week ago when it was snowy out and she got the mail. The same jacket she put away back upstairs right after she got back in the house. The same jacket she left her keys in and never checked the pockets.
Keys found. Good night of sleep ensues. One mind confirmed not crazy. Merry early Christmas.