Where Are My Keys?

Yes, those are my keys, don't even think of touching them.

Cell phone ringing, or should I say Sugarland singing.

"Hello," I say, knowing from the ringtone it's my husband.

He sounds serious. Instantly, my mind starts racing through traumatic scenarios. I won't mention them here, I don't want to worry you.

"I have your keys," he says to my relief, at first, anyways.

After a brief conversation, I press the end button on my phone, not upset. I figure I'll use the spare key.

See, Stefan has this habit of taking my keys. He says he mistakes my keys for his, which wouldn't be so bad, if he would, at least, leave me his keys. But he sees keys and he takes them. If he sees more keys, he takes those, too.

I think this goes back to his childhood. His mother was always losing her keys, and now he's paranoid he's going to lose his keys, so he hoards all the keys. Which explains why he's always worried that I'm going to steal his keys.

Whenever I drive anywhere, he always, says, "hand over the keys, little lady," when we arrive at our destination. I used to get upset about him not trusting me with the keys, but now I'm glad to hand over any responsibility I can, to someone else.

Anyways, after searching for the spare key without any success. The same spare I thought I'd hidden from him, I start to lose it. Without a car key, my plan of being childless for, four glorious hours would be foiled.

Cell phone rings, again, and quite frankly, just in time.

"I'm bringing your keys back to you," says Stefan, heroically.

I was a bit irritated at that point, and it was hard to see it from his "I'm the savior," point of view. I mean he had to bring me the keys, because he took the keys.

Still it was an improvement, from when he stole my keys in the past, leaving me stranded at home with a crying kid.

"Daddy took the keys, so you can't go to school today, baby," I say, but it's hard for a 3-year-old to grasp.

"Waaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" screams my son. At least it was my oldest, my youngest would have cried for the duration of school time, plus a few hours more.

However, for the record about two hours later, as I set off on my hike, I was really grateful, and I sent him a text message thanking him.