Running out of places to look, and tired of circling the house, I call the husband-guy, to see if he can elucidate my search. I know, this is a long shot, but I'm desperate at this point. If we're any later, I'm going to have to put on real shoes, a bra, and brush my hair, so I look half-way respectable when I sign them in as tardy.
My darling spouse says he has no idea where I might have put my keys, and by the way? Good luck with that. This is how I look when I'm on the phone with him:
Okay, so Pookie has been a complete lack of help in locating the errant keys, and I start circling the house again, in a last ditch effort, before I have to resign myself to getting dressed and having to take my kids to the office, which, I feel, puts me at a disadvantage in dealing with the staff for the rest of our tenure at this school. Crazy lady shit? Maybe...but again, did I ask? Is this helping me to find the GD keys?
Finally, I look in my old purse, which is hanging on the back of the kitchen door. I haven't used this purse in almost a year, so I know I would never put my keys in it, but I live with 3 men - rank thoughtlessness is a daily occurrence around here.
Guess what is in my old purse?
That's right! My freaking keys are in my old purse! That means that Mr. Helpful, aka, my husband, must have put them there, but because it wasn't involving a sporting event, (Yes, dammit, I AM bitter!) he couldn't remember that he had done it. This is how I looked after I found them:
So I got the kids off to school, without having to brush my hair, put on a bra, or take off my nummy fleece slippers, for which I am very grateful, but you better believe, mud will be flung tonight!
That, and I think it might be time for a little hair dye, eh wot? (don't answer that, I'm still cranky about the muffin keys.....!)