On my way back to the house the other morning I realized where my wife’s keys were (also where she wouldn’t know they were) and that there was no way she’d have gotten out the door in time. I didn’t know it yet, but it was only one link in the mayhem.
Mrs. Ombud’s Mom has a sewing school, teaching kids to sew, and last weekend MOM had a fashion show in a nearby park for her kids. It was pretty cute. The parents came and she had music and a microphone to introduce each kid and they all modeled what they had made. MOM tells me some of the parents work at Pixar studios – one parent was happy with how much her kid learned and began telling others. (It’s cool to see how the kids’ confidence is built by their accomplishments. As an adult it’s easy to take that stuff for granted.)
Anyway, it was a lot of work getting it all set up and then put away, and the upshot was that MOM lost her keys. And so we looked everywhere and then looked everywhere again, and the next day, as we went back to our jobs, MOM went back and looked through the trash bins in the park. No luck, no keys. We keep a spare set of keys for her so we retrieved those for her, and made plans to have spares made – her car key, with the microchip, is not cheap.
Then, in the course of the week’s travels, Mrs. Ombud met me at a BART station and I drove home – with her keys still in the ignition. So that, when I went out to grab dinner somewhere I put her keys in my pack (for safekeeping) and promptly forgot them.
You see where this is going.
I didn’t realize until I finished walking the dogs the next morning that, of course, Mrs. Ombud couldn’t leave without her keys, so I hustled home and found her on the front steps, waiting for us.
The good news was that, in looking for her own keys, she found her mother’s keys, tucked in a pocket of her pack. For safekeeping.
All these efforts at organization and safety and the results were: MOM was using Mrs. Ombud’s set of her own spare keys. Mrs. Ombud had her mother’s keys. And I had Mrs. Ombud’s keys.
The only keys actually with the person for whom they are intended were my own set.
I’m somewhat grateful for that. Even as I despair of our efforts at organization, at times.
OmbudsBen 
That made me feel dizzy – going to lie down now…
The only solution is to staple the keys to each person’s person. No, really, there is no other solution.
Az., I hope the dizziness has subsided — be glad you are not within the whirlwind!
Truce: ouch! We’ll try harder next time, really, we will!
I’m dizzy too, but I’ll still be back regularly to read your blog. This is good reading.
Thanks for the kudos, ThElm!
LOL at the comments. They fit so well.
Hey, yB, nice to see your mask again!
Wha? What happened? I’m dizzy too.
The house that I live in now has a combination type lock that operates the deadbolt. I guess they installed this because the landlord’s elderly mother used to live here and they wanted to be sure that neighbors or emergency personnel could get in easily in the case she was not able to unlock the door. But, for me, not yet so elderly or frail, it’s a nice insurance policy against any key mishaps. With that and the hide-a-key in my car, I’m not liable to end up sitting on a porch or curb waiting for someone to save my sorry ass.
With all the stresses and hassles in the world, it’s nice when life gives you a break, isn’t it?
Yes, it is nice to have one less thing to worry about.
Right now, I’m feeling locked out of my own blog, but hey, I opened up that can of worms, so I’ll just let them have the run of the place for a while and then I’ll come back and talk about cats and rabbits and shit again.
LB: yes, I saw that little incendiary exchange. 😀 Were I better versed in your beliefs, I’d try to come up with something funny or ironic or witty or wise or some combination thereof … in the meantime, is there something I can do to make you at home here?
A canine tail wag? A cuppa tea? Since Millicent went off to hunt mice her next incarnation, we’re feline-deprived here.
The other morning I wandered downstairs about 4 AM and saw a small figure at our the sliding glass doors to our back patio. I could see the cat head before he/she made me.
When I approached, she scampered off to the stairs. When I got to the door she was down the stairs and off across the backyard, over the raised beds and the fence and gone.
Have you felt like a cat in the moonlight, peering in the glass doors of your own blog?
I’ll have a cuppa tea, thanks. Ah, nice. Is this chamomile? Very soothing.
Lovely image that of the kitty skittering away in the moonlight. Except mine might include watching the hubbub brought about my dropping a dead mouse in the house.
Actually, the exchanges aren’t really nearly as explosive as you can find on some Buddhist forums. I think the fact that I have taken a fairly neutral stance on the issue has prevented it from turning into a flame war. But, the unintelligible Indian legal document was a nice touch though.
On the plus side, my numbers have never been higher. 🙂
Yes, I noticed the bureaucratic/legal document dump, too. I didn’t look too close, though. I assumed it was the Buddhistic equivalent of “yo momma” or “in yo face” or some such, and slid on by.
At the risk of seeming sacreligious, do you think they might be able to make a movie similar to “Help!” out of it?
Oh, that was Hinduism?
‘Scuse me. Nevermind.