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Tuesday, January 23, 2018

The Dumb Things I Do

You might remember how I went to the Greatest Showman singalong that ended up NOT being the actual singalong. Its been a week and a half since I made that error, and I'm still upset about it. It continues to bother me because it's not like me to make that type of mistake.

It's also not like me to miss an appointment, so I'm still haunted by the haircut I forgot to take Nicky to over five years ago.

When I do a dumb thing that isn't characteristic of me, I struggle to get over it.

But lest you think I am on some type of high horse, I'm here to confess that there are some dumb things I do do. And I do them so often that I don't even let them phase me.

For example, I frequently leave my curling iron and straightener on. At this point, when Scotty tells me my curling iron is on, I go "meh."

(I shouldn't go "meh" because I could burn my house down someday, but I fully acknowledge that leaving my curling iron on is a dumb thing I'm capable of).



I also run into things with my van.

(Like parked cars).

(That sometimes belong to my husband).

(But other times they belong to strangers who are inside Panda Express eating lunch).


What can I say? I'm spatially challenged!

But...

The most frequent, top slot, number one dumb thing I do...

...is lock my keys in my car.

The first time it happened, I was in high school, and I was getting ready to take my car to get emissions and inspection done. I was on the passenger side of my car getting stuff out of the glove box, and I started the car from there. Then I got out of the car and locked the door.


To my dismay, my car was running! Aaaaaand I didn't have a spare key, so my grandpa called a lock smith for me, and the guy felt so bad for me, he only charged me $20.

In the 18 years I've been driving (18 years!!!), I've locked my keys in the car WITH THE CAR ON three times. One of those times was in the Home Depot parking lot. Scotty was ice fishing and had my spare key on his key ring, so I called my mom, and she came and got me. The car wasn't running, luckily, but the keys were in the ignition and the radio and lights were on. We had to jump start it that night after Scotty got home.

I don't know how many other times I've locked my keys in my car - I only have the tally of how many times the car was ON when I locked my keys in it because I can at least fit that number on one hand.


One of the times I locked my keys in the car was right as we were supposed to leave for a work conference in Las Vegas. The police ended up coming and breaking into my car for me (perks of having a step-dad who works for the police department).

I locked my keys in my car today, in fact. As soon as I noticed my keys weren't in their usual spot in my purse, I knew exactly where they were. I called a friend to come save me, and before she got there, I remembered that Scotty planted a spare key in my wallet for this exact occasion. I hurried and called my friend back to tell her she didn't need to come save me. The last time this happened, though, I had to borrow a cell phone (the phone was in the car with the keys) and call my mom and ask her to come get me, take me home to get the spare key, and take me back to my van.

I was trying to be self-sufficient and not bother Scotty at work, so I didn't say anything to him until the problem had been resolved. When I told him, Scotty said, "Why did you make your mom come get you? You have that key in your wallet!"*

Oh.

(But thanks for saving me, Mom).

Knowing how many more stories there are that I'm not sharing is making me realize just how bad the problem is.

Locking keys in the car?

That's a dumb thing I do.


*If I ever call you to come save me when I've locked my keys in my car, please ask me if I have a key in my wallet before you agree to come get me

1 comment:

  1. My grandma Jones wrote a section in her life history called"dumb things I've done". One of my favorites was when she accidentally donated a bag of rhubarb to the D.I. instead of the clothes she intended to, they were both in grocery sacks.

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