Keys

The story begins with Chris picking up my keys to drive to the store last night because he couldn't find his car keys (turns out they were in the truck). So this afternoon when I need to get in the car to get Carson's carseat out so Kathy and I could go to the farmer's market together, my keys weren't where I left them (next to my purse on the kitchen counter). I searched the house for 2 hours trying to find my keys (or Chris' keys for that matter). About an hour into the search I remembered Chris going to the store and that he had asked me if I knew where his keys were. I called Chris at work but he wasn't around (I also called his cell phone and texted him). I continued the search for another hour.

With Kathy just 10 minutes from my house I remembered that we have a spare key for the car and dug it out of the box of keys (mostly keys we don't have clue as to what they open). Thankfully I didn't set off the car alarm when I used the key to open the car and was able to get the car seat and stroller out. Chris finally returns my call, but he doesn't recall what he did with my keys - suggests I look in his pant pockets which I already had done. I proceeded to empty the entire laundry basket but came up empty handed. So I picked up a spare house key and went to the farmer's market with Kathy in her car, informing Chris on the phone that he needs to find my keys when he gets home.

Fast forward to after dinner. Carson and I are playing and Carson bites me. I respond with "Ow! Carson just bit me!!" Chris replies, "You think that's bad you should have seen him clubbing me on the head with his truck and your keys last night." "My keys? Carson had my keys last night?" Lightbulb goes on above Chris' head and he says "Yeah....." So we hunt around the living room and finally find them buried deep underneath a couch cushion. We both agree that Carson shouldn't be allowed to play with my house keys anymore.