Locked Out... Again?

Or, the one where I learn a valuable lesson about having a second set of keys, my kid might have psychic tendencies and getting locked out/losing keys runs in the family...

Who doesn't have a second set of car keys? A show of hands please? *crickets* Of course you have a second set of keys.! Of course you do. My husband has a second set. My neighbor has a second set. I used to have a second set (for my old car). But, for whatever reason (that I agreed to) when I bought my (used) new car... it didn't come with a second set. I knew I was in trouble the moment I handed over the cashiers check. The possibilities (probabilities, eventualities) flashed through my mind. But, my new car! I was so happy to have a car again, that I just ignored the warning bells.

The transition from eventualities into realities went a little something like this...

A couple of months ago I had my annual check up with my lady doctor. I was a little bit early so I sat in the parking garage listening to the radio and reading my book. When it was time to go, I grabbed my purse, put my phone inside it, got out and started walking to the medical building. Without my keys. Which? I had left inside the car. Still in the ignition. Now, granted, a second set of keys would not have helped me in this situation. If I had a second set they wouldn't be with me or in my purse. They would be at home. So? When the appointment was over I called AAA to come break in open my car for me.

And then a few weeks after that...  I was in Target with my two lovely, teenage boys. The older one had just gotten his driver's permit and was chauffeuring us around that day, so in addition to his chauffeuring duties he was also the keeper of the keys. Inside the store the boys had gone off by themselves to browse the men's section while I did my shopping. When I caught up with them the older one was trying on some shirts in the changing room.  I told the younger one for them both to meet me up front at the checkout line because I was ready to go. I finished purchasing my items just as they walked up to find me. "Where are the keys?" Said older brother to younger brother. "I don't know," said younger brother. I, my heart sinking, exclaimed a resounding, record scratching "Whaaaaat?"  Apparently, older brother had given younger brother the keys to hold while he went in to the changing room and younger brother hung them up on one of the clothing racks. Just so we're clear. My 12 (almost 13) year-old child hung my keys (my only set of car keys) up on a clothing display rack, in the middle of Target. Even worse, the 16 year-old gave them to him to hold in the first place. Let that resonate for a minute. After about 20 minutes of not being able to find the rack where he hung the keys and me on the verge a melt-down as I imagnined the phone call I was going to have to make to my husband, I heard the sheepish words, "I found them."

Fast forward to last Saturday... My youngest son and I were hanging out before it was time to go to his roller hockey playoffs. "I had a dream last night," he said. "Oh yeah?" His dreams, or rather the re-telling of his dreams were always entertaining. "Yeah. I dreamed that we were late to my first game and you were just telling me that it was okay and that we would just go to my second game, " he recalled. "What? I would never do that... you must be anxious about the games. We'll leave as soon as I take a shower, so get your stuff ready."
A little while later I was ready to go. I grabbed my purse, phone and sunglasses out of my room and locked the door behind me... yes, with the car keys (and the key to the door) still sitting on the dresser. Where my husband had left them. "Oh my God, " I said as I walked down the hallway. "What?" Jacob asked. "I just locked the keys in my room," I said not quite believing the words as they came out of my mouth. We would have to call my husband and wait for him and our older son to return from a soccer game. "Er," I said. "you might be late to your first game."

Then? Yesterday, barely 5 days after I locked my keys inside my room,  I got home from work, parked the car right outside the house, bent down to put my shoes on (that I had taken off on the drive home), locked the door and got out of the car... Yes, with my keys still in the ignition... again. I called AAA before I even reached the front door. AAA is always so nice and empathetic when you call. "Oh, I am so sorry that happened to you Ms. Babaloo. Are you in a safe location?" I felt ashamed, slightly guilty and? A little embarrassed. "Yes, I am in my living room, couldn't be safer. 45 minutes? No problem, I'll just do a load of laundry and get dinner started."

I posted about the latest fiasco (and how I am losing my friggin' mind) on Facebook. The next day my cousin commented that she remembered an incident back when she was younger and while at her brother's graduation, my mother locked her mother's keys in the trunk.

So? Great news! I am losing my mind AND APPARENTLY it runs in the family.

This post is part of Writer's Workshop