Agh!

As we are driving to San Diego we get this call from an unknown number. I'm hesitant to answer because it is late and we are driving. Who is calling me at this late hour? I'm on a two-day get away. Now Anne's phone is ringing. I had better answer maybe something is wrong or who knows? Yeah, it turns out to be my adopted son, Terrance who is locked out of the house. I asked the obvious where are your keys... Oh I don't keep them unless I'm driving the car. Great now who is going to watch my puppies?

Ah, my real son shows up and Terrance can break in and watch our dogs. I get a little miffed when someone continues to forget basic things. I know I can't always have the same expectations for Terrance or Jon as I have for myself? Why not? Why make same lame excuse for someone who is capable but chooses to be brain dead?

I have locked my keys in the car in the past. I remember meeting with a Phoenix police officer for the first time only to admit to Officer Chris that I needed help breaking into my truck if I am going to go home! He gets a coat hanger and we actually did it unpainfully. Now I take precautions, whereas in the past I had never done this. I know Terrance tires of being picked on but the only saving grace is the school of hard knocks.

I just dislike seeing young minds not being exercised. So I truly hope no more lost keys especially when we are gone on a trip. Yet, if there are more mishaps I do have a hidden set of keys in my office.