The Blame Game…


December 26, 2011 by Kim

We had an incident today

An incident regarding my car key…. the same car key that Hubs has told me a trillion times, needs to have a copy made.

The car key has been misplaced before… it is usually unearthed before I enter Level 7 Panic Attack Mode

Today was different

I noticed that lack of a car key as I prepared to leave the house, this afternoon

I immediately went to the usual place… my purse


Within the next 2 hours I checked my purse at least 6 more times…

still nothing

…imagine that

After about 10 minutes, Hubs decided to join the effort…

As I tried to retrace my steps, from the previous night, different areas of the house were given the “all clear”

Kitchen drawers and cabinets, the refrigerator, the freezer, the fruit bowl, The Beast’s cage, under the couch cushions, under the couch, under our bed, inside the closets, the bookshelves, the computer desk, the washing machine the laundry, the car, the trunk of the car, underneath the car, the truck, the front yard, the backyard, the street…

It was really beginning to feel hopeless

and all I could hear, in my head, was the trillions of times that Hubs had told me to get a copy made.

He is never ever ever going to let me live this down…


So, about an hour and a half into our fruitless search… I looked at Hubs, with dead eyes, and whispered that I had no clue where else we could look….

I didn’t want to admit defeat…. because I knew the damned keys were in the house, somewhere… and that as soon as we got the car towed to a nearby town, got the key made and returned home…. the original key would unearth itself.


Possibly in a song and dance number…


We both knew that there was one last place to check…. We saved it for last, for a reason…

With all of Christmas’ hoopla, yesterday… the gifts and the food and the frenzy of activity… there was a very real possibility that the key ended up in one of the trash cans, outside.

We walked to the garage in silence, pulled on some work gloves and returned to the trash cans.

Within 30 seconds a weeks worth of trash lay before us, on the driveway…

fast food bags, wrapping paper and of course Mow-Mow the Ferret’s discarded litter


We finished digging through the piles of trash as quickly as possible

As the last piece of cardboard was returned to the recycle trash can, we were still sans key

It seemed surrender was our only option…

2 hours… Lost

Not exactly the way we had planned on spending the weekend.

As I sat in the kitchen, in a daze…. Hubs rounded the kitchen table and absently stuck his hand into the pocket of his oversized flannel jacket… the same pocket that I had JUST CHECKED 5 MINUTES PRIOR!

… you can see where this is going, can’t you?

His hand and my car key emerged from the pocket.

For a minute I was speechless and happy….

and then it dawned on me, The keys had been in HUB’S jacket all along!!!!

ha HA!!!!

I prefer things to NOT ever be my fault and this little turn of events made that possible.

I smirked at Hubs and made a few smart-ass comments about the key being in his jacket… I kissed him on the forehead and told him that I loved him anyways…

I’m such a good wife….

Then a recent memory slowly entered my train of thought…

A recent memory of this morning… and the boys discovering that The Beast had escaped the house…  Regaining control of The Beast is no easy feat, especially when he tastes sweet freedom across his droopy lips

I suddenly remembered me throwing Hub’s oversized flannel jacket on… grabbing the car key and heading outside to assist the boys in wrangling up The Beast…


It WAS me after all…

For about 15 seconds I pondered allowing Hubs to continue to believe that he was at fault…

and then decided to come clean

and then apologized

and then apologized again

and then kissed him on the forehead

and then….. apologized again

He decided to let it slide (this time)… maybe

as I was walking to the door I decided to make one last play for  my innocence by questioning whether it should actually be The Beast who was at fault… since it all tied back to his great escape…

Hubs flatly denied my request


One thought on “The Blame Game…

  1. Spectra says:

    – and you say you checked that flannel coat pocket once? I mean, did you punch your whole fisted hand in there, spread out the fingers wide, and do the ferris-wheel-hand inside that pocket? You really have to twirl n’ swirl to get the fullest effect from ferris-wheel-hands. Ferris-Wheel-Hands in the pocket would have saved the day for you. Or, at least 2 hours of it, anyway 😉

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