“You rifle through the junk drawer, the baby purses, the refrigerator, and that little hole on the side of the TV speakers – to no avail. Even the pantry, where you found a tiny Baby Jesus last spring, is full of only food and an errant container of Play-Doh.
Frustration builds as you begin to suspect these keys were not simply misplaced but hidden. Looking the children in the eyes and menacingly reminding them that this search is wasting their play time, you interrogate them under the searing light of Snowglobe Elsa. ‘WHERE ARE THE KEYS?’ Your furrowed brow is met with a shoulder shrug and … was that a smile? A SMILE?”
Inspired by maddeningly true events, I’m over on Scary Mommy tonight with a new post about that time I lost my keys for two hours.
This is why we drink, people. Happy Sunday, and remember: sharing is caring!
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