Sometimes it feels like I’m moonlighting at a prison. That’s how many keys I have on my key ring.

There’s my three keys for the house. And the three keys for my parents house. And the key for the dog’s house that I sometimes sit. And the two car keys, with one of them having a separate car door opener beeper thingy. And because the van key automatic door opener beeper thingy is not working I had an extra key on the ring, as well. AND, a separate house door key on a separate ring with a key chain in the shape of a hockey puck (because that’s just the way the cookie crumbles in this house).

My partner’s key ring has four keys on it.

The POINT I’m trying to make is that when he accidentally takes off with MY set of keys, my whole mental state changes from “oh my god what if I have to pick up Molly or go to my parents or blah blah blah”.

Yes, it appears I am somewhat of a drama queen.

So he takes off with my keys. Goes to work an hour away from home. It snowed. The second car is parked in the driveway and covered in snow. It doesn’t look particularly likely that I’m going to go to the trouble of dealing with the snow on the car, since the weather reports says it’ll warm up and much of the snow will melt by itself.


But my keys are missing! This makes me feel…weird.

I walk the girl-child to school. She is tired, walking in half a foot of snow is “haaard!”. I make a mental note to not drive to pick her up after school, specifically because she is tired. Tired child in evening will be quieter, which is what I need at 8 pm (not like last night when they imitated football players and romped around the house like maniacs…). Burning energy in fresh snow is good exercise! She loves snow! So what if it takes a little longer to make it to school!


Point is I won’t need the car keys.

Then I also had an appointment at the hair salon. The salon is literally a five minute walk away from my house, but I was thinking of driving there and then immediately after drop in at the grocery store. We’re running low on things like toilet paper, and fruit…

But then I decide that brushing off the car is too much work, so I walk to the salon.

I come back. I leave my coat on, leave my boots on, and pick up my bag and list.

I look at my (his) keys. The key for the car he drove to work is smaller than the van key. There’s a second key that looks like the first key. It must be that he’s using two keys for the same car.

I take off my coat. Obviously I’m not going grocery shopping because I don’t have the van keys, I think to myself.

I take off my boots. I don’t really feel like going anyway.

I look around. The kitchen is a mess. The entrance is a mess. The living room is a mess.

I look at the keys again. Maybe I should try the second key, in case it does work on the van…

See what I mean? I’m such a drama queen.

So I put my feet back in the boots, leave the coat on the bench, take the stupid key and walk out into the still snowing exterior of the house and almost break my neck tripping off the last step.


I fit the key in the key hole. It fits. I fit it into the ignition. It fits.

I go back to the stupid house, skip over the bottom step to avoid more injury, go back into the house, put on  my coat, grab my bag and the damn keys, and leave to get the groceries.




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