Ahhh, Valentine's Day. The day when mischievous leprechauns wreak havoc on your life. At least that's what it was here.
The day started out perfectly fine. I got the boys up, fed and dressed in new red shirts -- Super Bowl XLVI for Charlie and Angry Birds for Robbie. I sent them on their way with Mike and sat down to write the requisite Valentine's Day blog post.
Post written, Annie got up. We argued about whether she would go to school today. She threw up last night, but I was pretty sure it was something she'd eaten. No fever. Felt fine before dinner, not so fine after. (I did not cook it.) She wanted to stay home. I said she had to go. She groused, but got dressed.
The carpool kid arrived. The girls got in the car and that's when the day came to screeching halt.
I could not find my keys. Anywhere.
They were not on the kitchen counter. Not in the drawer by the front door. Not in the front door. Not in my purse. Not in my coat pocket. After 15 minutes of hunting, I called the girls back inside and called the other carpool mom to ask her to take the girls to school. Then I sent a message to my office saying I'd be working from home until I found the keys.
I kept searching. Not on my dresser. Not in the pants I wore out to eat last night. Not under the couch cushions. Not under the couch. Not in my work bag. Not in the trunk.
I called Mike, thinking maybe they fell out of my coat in his car. No luck.
I prayed to St. Anthony -- "Tony, Tony, look around, something's lost and can't be found."
I sounded the "please pray I find my keys" alert on Facebook and Twitter. One friend said she felt like St. Anthony was telling her I should look by the mailbox. I put my shoes on and went digging in the snow around the mailbox. I got cold hands but no keys.
They had to be somewhere. Maybe one of the boys had them? So I called the school and had the boys check their backpacks. Nada.
There was work to be done, so I set up my laptop on the kitchen table and got down to business. The rest of the morning went like this:
Type, type, type. Work, work, work. Search, search, search. Repeat.
I looked in the pantry, in the fridge, under all the bathroom sinks, in the basement. I looked under every cushion in the house. I went back out to the car, searched my coat, purse and trunk again to no avail.
I honestly began to believe that some leprechaun or gremlin had taken my keys. Ok, I also thought that they were probably in Mike's car and he just didn't look closely enough.
Then around noon, the real fun started. I got a call from the nurse at Annie's school. She'd thrown up at school and could I come get her. Oh, and Annie had mentioned to the nurse that she had been throwing up last night. Did I know that? (Insert guilty emoticon here.)
Well crap. I updated the missing key drama on Facebook and called Mike, who was unable to leave work for a while because of something he was working on. Thank God for Facebook and other people who check it on their smartphones like I do because my new BFF Kate, who I know from the Delta Gamma days in college, had responded that she was downtown and could pick Annie up for me. Praise Jesus (and Kate)!
Once I alerted the school that Kate would be picking up Annie (nevermind that Annie had never met her before), I called the Toyota dealer to see about having some new keys made. We'd have to go into the dealership after Mike got home to show proof of ownership and get the keys. I would deal with replacing my office keys tomorrow.
The latest crisis averted (well, besides not having a clue where my friggin' keys were), I sat down to work again. Somewhere around 3pm, I got a massive headache. After about 30 minutes of trying to ignore it, I decided to lay down. As I closed my eyes, I said a little prayer that I would have a dream that would show me where the keys were.
Two hours later, I woke up without the benefit of a dream. Mike was on his way to pick up the boys and I decided to renew my search. With a more clear head, I started in the car again. Nope. Looked in my coat. Nothing. Picked up my purse and searched the outside front pocket, the main inside compartment, the inside zippered pocket. Big fat zero.
Frustrated, I threw the purse down and it landed back side up. Hmmm...there is a zippered pocket on the back. A zippered pocket I don't think I'd checked before.
Yup. You know it. Those keys were there. Annie had searched the purse once. I had looked at least three times.
I don't think the keys were in my purse the whole time. I think someone took them, hid them all day, and then slipped them into that pocket while I was sleeping.
It was a leprechaun. I just know it.