From the girl who’s locked her keys in her car more times than she can count, (twice while it was running) comes the boy who’s on his third water bottle of the school year.
My nine year old was telling me with excitement about winning a token at school for their library’s book vending machine when he realized he left it in his grandparents’ car. Cue the waterworks. This token was of the utmost importance. He was pleading with me through his tears to track down his grandfather who was running errands, and recover he token. His loyal little brother chimed in, “we only get one token a year!” But with a basketball game and busy evening, we couldn’t stop to send a search party. I texted but they couldn’t find it.
After the game, he begged to drive over and look, insisting he must have left it at their house after school, but it was past bedtime. After tucking him in, my sympathy crept up. I understand what it’s like to have a brain so busy it doesn’t even register where I’ve put my keys, or why I walked into a room. I drove over to my in-laws after bedtime and knocked on the door, surprising them in their pajamas as I proceeded to ransack their car like an FBI agent. Still nothing.
Defeated, I drove home thinking we’d get to re-live the devastation again in the morning. That’s when I finally thought to check his shorts pocket. Bingo. He’d had it the entire day. While he was pleading with me to go find it, the token was sitting inches from his fingertips the whole time.
I’d say someday he needs to learn to keep track of his own stuff. That someday he’ll have his own keys and wallet, and he’ll learn to remember where he puts them. But I’m still working on that myself. What we can do is make sure his dad always has a spare. For those days when our brains get too busy.
Our Life in A-Z 