Every time I leave the house I have a mantra that reminds me of the holy trinity of things I must not forget. ‘Keys, purse, phone.’ (my mother in law always used to intone: ‘spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch’. I believe she pinched it from the act of crossing oneself in church). If I have those things, there is nothing I cannot do. If not, my world spirals even more out of control than it currently is.
Today, for the first time in years I shut the front door to the house on the way to take the boy to school and locked my keys inside. I was left with a lip balm in one hand and phone in the other.
Now, I know that we had a locking out incident a few months ago, when me and the kids were gardening and Tilly wandered out and shut the door, but that was not my fault, technically. Today I had nobody else to blame but myself.
I hate it when that happens. I do like to shift the blame onto someone or something else if at all possible. I know this makes me a feckless, waster with dubious morals. I’m fine with that.
Today not only could I not blame someone else for shutting the door/forgetting the key. I had nobody else to blame for the fact that I have still failed to find a good hiding place outside my house for a spare key.
This is utter laziness on my part. I am bang to rights.
I thought of all the people who have spare keys. Firstly my mother, who is currently in Peterborough flogging Georgian newspapers to the masses. This was not convenient. Then our friend Gavin, who also rather inconveniently, moved down South on Thursday and brought his spare key over on Wednesday night. That left my husband, who was in Nottingham. I called him, envisioning a long wait on the door step surrounded by Ocado bags due to the fact I had a grocery order scheduled for delivery between 9 and 10.
It is the way of my people.
He pointed out that the girls’ have keys. I had totally forgotten this. Also, that Tallulah’s school is a ten minute walk away. I had, it seems, also forgotten this. I congratulate myself on remembering I do have daughters. This is as far as I am prepared to commit to knowing anything today.
I galloped the boy to school and begged a lift from my lovely friend Jenn. En route, we agreed that we would swap emergency keys so that this would hopefully never happen again. I threw myself into school reception, where the lady on the desk was most sympathetic to my stressed demeanour, especially when she realised that a grocery order was probably languishing on the door step. She rooted Tallulah out from the bowels of the school. She arrived in reception ready to go home, and was rather disappointed I only wanted the key and not her and the key. I don’t know what she had for first lesson but she didn’t look happy about it.
Jenn burned rubber getting me back to my front door, which I could now open.
Furthermore, the Ocado man did not turn up until 9.30 a.m. which still gave me time to take my coat off, have a wee, and indulge in a small adrenalin rush based heart attack.
I cured myself with two chocolate digestives and a cup of cold coffee, and the day has vastly improved since then, although I am still rather forgetful, and must write copious notes on my hand to get through this afternoon’s chores without failure.
I can cross, update blog off the list now though.