Keys

Overall, I love the fact that Mike sold his car - he's much happier and healthier, and I love what he's doing for environmental reasons. However, it's unrealistic to think he would never need a car, so sometimes he uses the Elantra ("my" car). Generally, this works great. The only drawback is that he's not as disciplined as I would like him to be about putting my car keys away. As I was getting ready to leave for work this morning, once again I couldn't find my keys. (Mike used them last night, and also earlier in the morning to let the A/C repairman into the garage.) Frustrated, I yelled out to him as he was showering in the bathroom:

Mike, have you seen my keys?

Aren't they in your purse? [aka, where they belong]

No, you didn't put them away after you used them. [subtle, right?!]

Well, are they in the basket?  [where he generally - but not always - keeps his keys]

No.

On the piano bench?

No.


In my pants pocket?

No.


In my jacket pocket?

No.


On the dresser?

No.  [this is starting to get old, I was thinking.]

On the table?

No. 
 

Well, I don't know where they are then. [as I hear the water go off and him starting to get dressed.]

[long pause, as I try to decide how, exactly, to respond]

Hey, they're right here in the bathroom!!

[insert eye roll here] Seriously?! I mean, of course! Where else would you put car keys? I don't know why I didn't think to look in the bathroom for my keys. Naturally!

[Sigh]

But on some level Mike must have been feeling guilty, since he had a yummy dinner ready for me when I got home from work tonight. :) So all's well that ends well.

Thanks, Mike!