Ring, Ring, Ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Marsha, it’s Andrea. Hey, um, I can’t find my keys. Do you think you could drive?”
“Um, sure.”
“I think Calvin got a hold of them. He must’ve lost them somewhere. I’ve searched the whole house. I never lose my keys. Cal must have gotten a hold of them.”
[Slight laugh] “Oh, I understand.”
Later that day:
Wyatt: Anj, your keys are right here on the bed. (Where Cal is not big enough to climb up. It must not’ve been Cal.)
Okay, okay, so I loose my keys all the time. It drives Wyatt crazy. It makes me think I’m crazy. But today is a red-letter day. I found my keys (this time I lost them for three and a half weeks, not just an afternoon.)
I am sooooo much fun to live with. Wyatt, wouldn’t you agree. Don’t answer that right now. Wait until the house is clean and my keys are hanging safetly on their hook.
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