So I lost my only car key … again

Here’s what I remember.

Colum and Irene were eating breakfast in the kitchen and I was letting Mary sleep since her preschool starts later than the kids’ school. I had made their lunches and stacked the containers neatly at one corner of the kitchen island. Colum’s backpack was in the corner of the room, but Irene’s had been left in the car overnight.

I remember taking the car key off it’s hook and slipping on a pair of flats to dash out to the car. I didn’t wear a jacket, but I think I might have had a cardigan on. I unlocked the car doors by turning the key twice in the driver’s side door since we don’t have a remote access key fob for our car. I then opened the rear car door on the driver’s side and saw that the backpack was at the other side of the car. I walked around the back of the car, opened the rear door on the passenger side and took out the backpack.

I remember going upstairs, waking Mary, bringing her to the bathroom and getting her dressed. Her stroller had been left outside and was wet, so I covered the seat with a plastic bag and then a reusable cloth shopping bag. We walked the two older kids to the school bus and then walked back home.

Then I fed Mary breakfast, packed her a school snack, and walked her to preschool. Then I walked back home again, tried to work for a couple hours, walked back to the preschool to get Mary and then, you guessed it, walked home. Yes, this is my life.

At 3pm, we walked over to get the kids off the school bus, went to the park for half an hour, walked Colum to his piano lessons and spent half an hour reading stories in the music school’s waiting room. Then we all walked home.

I made spaghetti carbonara for dinner which was a hit. The kids did their homework. Ed was putting them to bed and I was going to duck out to run some errands. I remember putting on my jacket and feeling around for the car key. My immediate hunch was that it was in one of my pockets. It wasn’t. It wasn’t on the key hook either. I started to get worried. Then I started to panic.

Here’s what I don’t remember.

I don’t remember if I packed Colum’s lunch into his backpack before or after I went out to the car to get Irene’s.

I don’t remember locking the car, but I must have done so since the doors are all locked. I don’t remember coming back into the house with the backpack. And I have absolutely no fucking idea what I did with that car key.

Let me see … No, nothing, nada. Blanksville, baby.

Did I shove it into the pocket of my jeans or my cardigan? I don’t know. Maybe! That sounds like something I might do.

Did I tuck it away somewhere unusual for “safe keeping” because I was rushing to get the kids to school? I totally could have done that. I definitely have some sort of sense memory of tucking something somewhere. Then again, that could be because I’m constantly hiding things from small people in nooks and crannies.

Did I put it down somewhere in plain sight where Mary could find it and then put godknowswhere? Oh, yes, that’s a definite possibility. She even says she saw it on the dining room table just before it disappeared. Unfortunately, three-year-olds are notoriously unreliable witnesses.

The only thing I know for sure is that I am losing my mind. I have lost my mind and countless productive hours obsessing over this car key. I have turned the house upside down. I have asked after it at both the preschool and the music school. Mary and I retraced our steps over and over again. I have found two OTHER KEYS (but not my own) by peering into the drifts of fall leaves that cover every last square inch of the entire neighbourhood right now.

Nice twist, btw, Mother Nature. You got me! I won’t be driving anywhere for several days. Because, finally having admitted defeat, we decided to go ahead and figure out what to do to replace the missing key. It involves towing the car to the dealership and then waiting FOUR DAYS for them to order and program blank keys. And, oh yeah, it’ll be $120 per standard, non-remote access, stick-it-in-the-damn-door and then in the ignition, key.

Thank goodness we can actually get by fine without a car (says the person who won’t be lugging hockey equipment back and forth to the arena). This, of course, makes me wonder why we don’t just get rid of it altogether, you know, after I get my money’s worth out of those shiny new keys.

P.S. Of course this had to happen the very same week in which we’re replacing our shared concrete walkway and the hot water tank stopped working. Christmas came early this year, kids! I hope you love your new gas valve as much as I do. And hot baths better feature prominently in your Santa letters.

P.P.S. For those of you who can remember as far back as last winter, yes, you’re right. We did lose our only car key in a snow bank and then STILL did not manage to get a copy made in the next seven and a half months. Oh god, that’s embarrassing.

P.P.P.S. Make a copy of your keys! Do it now!