As I mentioned, here: Jim lost his keys. We'd just returned from spring break (having used my vehicle and keys for a week) when he realized they were missing. We still haven't found them.
After five days of searching, we had the truck towed to a local dealership to have a replacement key made. Almost unbelievably, someone there found a "hide key"--that we hadn't hidden--on the outside of the truck. So, for all its inconvenience, the situation cost us nothing. We have Allstate; even the towing was free.
Yesterday, I realized: my keys were missing. The timing felt very unfortunate because, in my minivan, I had my three, little children; a hot meal and gift for friends who'd just welcomed a baby; a hot meal for Cade's other family; my children's outgrown clothing to share with friends; and all the essential personal items (including camera) for my travels...except my keys.
I was already rattled at the moment of my unfortunate discovery because--minutes earlier, as I'd buckled Charleigh into her car seat--I'd heard a strange, little sound and looked down to behold Clementine at my hip and with a rock, scratching paint off the side of my minivan as though she were working a nickel across a scratch-off ticket.
(Earlier in the day, I'd discovered her in a corner with a pair of scissors, cutting a Thomas the Tank coloring book into tiny slivers.)
But it had been a good day none-the-less: a productive day during which I'd made sense of the downstairs in preparation for small (large) group Bible study, and I reminded myself of this as I re-entered the house to look for my keys. The house is picked up!, I encouraged myself in my kindest, inner Mister Rogers voice; surely my keys will be easily found.
(To Be Continued...)