The case of the missing keys

The nice thing about marriage is that you have sort of a built in failsafe for those days when even though you love them, you really don’t LIKE your spouse very much.

Life’s adventures

I know everyone feels that life with Mr. Wonderful is just one long festival of adventure and romance and keeping me alive through sheer cunning and strong will. This is all true.

It is also an adventure in not murdering him and making it look like an accident some days. Not many days. But some. Definitely some.

Yesterday I was on my way out the door to work, feeling good about myself, on time, coffee in hand, hair adequately big and fluffed (I’m an 80’s girl. I don’t “do” a flat do).

The keys

I reached for my car keys and … no keys.

This is a problem.

You should know that I am hyper organized for the most part. I keep a key bowl on the table by the door and, as the name implies, this bowl is for KEYS. Or, if you are Mr. Wonderful: gum, pocket knives, ear plugs, business cards and everything that is “not keys.”

Knowing that Mr. Wonderful had driven the car last I cast about for where he would have left it. In the car itself is always a good bet. No.

With the clock ticking and no keys to be found I did what any understanding wife would do. I called him at work to inquire sweetly “hey honey pie my darling where are my keys?”

Please

What I said was more along the lines of screeching into the phone “Where are my KEYS?” in a tone implying he had stolen a kidney. It did not help that his verbal map to possibly locate the errant keys included instructions such as “check the coat I left on the chair.”

This led to more screeching. “We have an entire ROOM for coats? Why is there a coat on the chair???” This went on for a few minutes until he came up with the solution that would work in the moment “you should take the truck.”

Gas is needed

At this point I was flirting with being late to work and literally growled into the phone “if in your next breath you say “it needs gas” I will murder you.” Silent pause. Ladies let me assure you that, as with toddlers, if a man is too quiet – it’s a problem.

Long time readers will recall one thing about Mr. Wonderful. He has a knack that he really should into a vocation. He can drive seemingly forever on less than a tablespoon of gas. In over two decades together I have yet to get into his truck and not have it be on “empty.”

Help needed

Sure enough with no minutes to spare I hop into the truck, needle buried on empty, and head off to the gas station. There is nothing a woman likes more than pumping gas before a long day at work, am I right ladies? Properly fueled I headed to work where I regaled my colleagues with stories of the many ways I might need help hiding his body. I’m not big on digging.

It’s a hallmark of a happy marriage that we spent most of the day sending texts back and forth planning what fate might befall him IF HE DIDN’T FIND MY KEYS.

The appointment

Of course the day got even BETTER when I had to take GirlWonder to a doctor appointment. There I was maneuvering around all the BMWs and Lexus in the Medical Park in a full size pickup truck, extended cab, with deer guts smeared all over the tailgate and bed and weeds and grass dangling out of the wheel wells (from where they got stuck driving in to get the deer, naturally).

I felt so fancy – and possibly like a character out of Duck Dynasty?

Laugh a lot

Mr. Wonderful knows I always love and adore him and at the end of the day we can laugh at ourselves and the situation. At some point you just have to EMBRACE the ridiculousness.

The key(less) way to better living? Learn to laugh at yourself. I figure if the blood and weeds did nothing else it explains why absolutely NO ONE cut me off in traffic.