Oh, boy. Last night we went to dinner and he asked where the other set of keys was. That question should have set off some warning signals, but it didn't.
So as I'm fixing coffee, getting the dogs' food ready for their breakfast, bringing in the paper, thinking about doing the crossword puzzle...you know, gently phasing into the day, he asks, "Where's the other set of keys? You were the last person to drive the car and use those keys."
Me: There's a set hanging in the cupboard, use those.
Hubs: Those don't have my work keys on them.
CRAP.
Thus begins the frantic he-needs-his-keys-because-he's-ready-to go-to-work-RIGHT-NOW search. I think back to Saturday night as I dump out my purse, run up to our room and look on the dressers, in the closets, in the bathroom. I run back downstairs and check out the laundry room, look in the garage on the shelves. Saturday night...lovely dinner with friends...two glasses of wine...my mind was not in a fuzz. Where did these keys go? Run to the living room and rip the cushions off the couch. (Note to self: vacuum this couch).
No keys but there's a dime, a wheat penny and a brand new penny.
A calm hits me..."Hi, Dad."
My dad died almost 11 years ago. People tell stories about pennies from heaven; well, my dad leaves dimes. And in the midst of this Monday morning craziness, a dime shows up. "Calm down and call your mother."
Mom stopped by yesterday and when she left she picked up Hubs' keys. I called her and the mystery of the keys was solved.
Thanks, Dad...miss you, love you. I can see you smiling.
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