I woke up early. I showered (!) and packed up the juice, and epipens, and put on the jackets and the boots. I strapped the baby into the car seat. I grab my keys.
Where is my house key? Here’s my car key, Nick’s car key, where the heck did my key go? Ahh yes, I took it off when I had to leave Nick in the car with our children to rush into the house on account of my explosive Chipotle situation. (Use your imagination. Well, don’t use it too much- come on now!) Maybe you still don’t get it. Lactose intolerance. Sour cream burrito. Okay. Suffice it to say it was an emergency. This emergency ended up taking so long that Nick gave up waiting in the car for our other errands and just came inside.
Hence my lost house key.
I can’t find it. I was on my way to Bible Study. The first one I’ve been to. I RSVP’d, but then again, since I don’t really know anyone, I won’t be missed. But, I wore clothes today! It feels unjust. I think Satan stole my key so I couldn’t go to bible study. That’s seems like something he would totally do. Butthole.
Gotta go put on my rubber gloves and reach down into the vents, which is where my key most likely is due to my 2 year olds obsession with gravity.