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50 First Days

Dear Diary,

Today was typical, nothing out of the ordinary. Herbie lost his cell phone. He had it with him in the car, the truck and all over the house. He searched the vehicles while I scoured the house, digging with my hands behind things like laundry piles and couch cushions. All that got me was dirty underwear and cheeto dust. One hour later: he found it in the car, on the dashboard! "Good grief, Herbie." (I call him Herbie when he gets my goat.) He says he never put the cell phone on the dashboard before, that's why he didn't think to look there. Okay...

But wait, there's more! So we decide to go shopping. I ask where the car keys are, and Herbie says they're in the car. So I grab my purse and lock all the doors behind me. We get into the car. No keys. "Dang it!" Herbie says. "They must be in the house!" Hmmm. Too bad I just locked all the doors. The car keychain also has our house keys on it. Herbie resorts to taking the back door off the hinges to get inside.

On our way out of town, we were supposed to drop off our son's dog, Cujo. Yes, Cujo. Cujo is quite large, and there's no forgetting he's in the car. Herbie started going the opposite way. I said "You forgot about Cujo!" So we turned around...and drove right past Cujo's house. Eventually Cujo did get dropped off.

Later in the day...We're sitting in Chili's. We just ordered ribs. Herbie remembers that he forgot to ship a Fed Ex package, and he has to go immediately because they close in 20 minutes. One rack of ribs and a margarita later, Herbie returns feeling disgruntled. They closed an hour ago.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig. Luckily the back door was off the hinges, because Herbie now tells me when he went back in the house for the keys earlier, he could only find the spare key. The original car keys were actually in the truck. But don't bother asking where the truck keys are. Let's not go there...