i think it’s cute :)
Posted November 1, 2006on:
Monday morning I had the darnest time trying to remember where I put my keys, last seen on Friday. This is not out of character for me. In fact, I always waste precious minutes each morning in search of either my wallet or my keys, and some really frantic mornings, both. I say this line to Son at least once a month, lest he forgets: “Son, I can’t find my wallet/keys/money.” Inevitably, the first line out of his mouth would be, “Where did you last put it?” which drives me crazy, because come on, given the experiences I have had in losing things, of course I have perfected my art of searching for them. First I try to remember when was the last time I had them in my hands, and where I was. Then I retrace all my steps and activities the previous evening, plus all the possible places I could have been with that lost object. Then I look at all the places where I usually put such things. Then I look at all the places where I had found my things in the past. And lastly, I look in places adjacent to all the places mentioned above, just in case it got moved. By the time I’m distressingly waking Son up and telling him I can’t find my stuffs, the last suggestion I want to hear is “where did you last put it?” Anyways, it’s one of those regular routines, usually ending with Son driving me to work, because I was late for BART. Nowadays, since he leaves at 6:30, I’m pretty much screwed if I can’t find my stuffs.
Anyways, back to the keys, I ended up grabbing the spare keys and ran to work instead, telling myself that I would look for my set of keys that evening. Which was before I decided that I would cook 6 quarts of stuffed bitter melon soup and 7 quarts of sour mustard soup while doing the dishes, cleaning the kitchen, and grocery shopping. Tuesday morning, no keys. But I was determined to find my keys on Halloween, and so that was the first thing I did when I got home. I found them on Son’s study desk, where I suspected I put them on Friday (under his Board books). Being myself, I simply moved the books aside and left the keys exactly where they were (better than moving them and have no clue where I will have moved them to the next morning).
Wednesday at the wee hour of 6:30 a.m., Son came into the room dressed ready for the hospital, and he dropped my keys next to the alarm clock, telling me “hey I put your keys here for you OK?” I didn’t say anything to him about not finding my keys these past 2 days, how did he know? It’s cute. It’s one of those moment where I feel so understood and so well cared for.
picture: cats on window, sunday morning