Los Llaves

Scene: Mom is gathering her two youngest boys, getting ready to head out the door to pick up daughter Chloe from her second day of kindergarten. As she helps son Noah with his shoes, she turns to see baby Adam making a beeline for his new favorite toy - the toilet. Knowing that Chloe and Noah have not been very reliable flushers, Mom makes a mad dash to grab Adam before his little hands enter the cool waters colored like lemonade. As one hand closes around Adam, Mom's other hand goes for the toilet handle, hoping that, should she not lift Adam in time, at least the yellow waters will recede before he acheives his water playing goals. Suddenly Mom gasps, for as the water swirls aways, so do her keys (los llaves) which have in the hustle fallen from her hands along with the hopes for a relaxing remainder of the day.

Fiction? Myth? Urban Legend? No, this story comes straight from the experience of yours truly. I, along with the tow truck driver and Ford service manager, am still unsure as to how everything lined up to create this perfect storm of stress, but here I sit after watching my car be towed away (you apparently need to have the car to be able to make a new key for it), and scrambling to get someone to pick up Chloe, with a few minutes to myself wondering if I should laugh or cry. I choose neither. Instead I choose to blog my good luck as a memory hopefully none will ever experience as I shake my head and sigh.