beefy treats

Last night I left my house at 7pm with my kids mostly ready for bed. Plan: hit the drive-thru pharmacy for Evan's ear infection medicine.

{Can I pause for a moment and allow myself to appreciate a pharmacy that not only stays open past 6pm, but also one that has a DRIVE FREAKING THRU?! If all pharmacies go bankrupt I will personally get 13 jobs to make sure my little CVS with the drive thru stays alive.}

As I dig into my junk pile, I mean diaper bag, to pay for the medicine I find the space that always holds my money card in my wallet is void. I know immediately where it is, that trusty golden debit card. Earlier in the afternoon I sped away with hot tacos in hand (the only companion to The Triscuit in this pregnancy diet of All Other Food Sounds Gross). I was so eager, too eager, to eat those warm and crunchy beefy treats that I left my card behind. This happens often in my life. Only I normally leave it in plain sight with high traffic, widely public areas for lots of people to have lots of opportunity to find my treasure. Airport phone booth, Post Office counter, Parking spot, Grocery store, Library.

It's Losing the Childhood House Key grows up and meets Real Responsibility, and loses it all over again and again.

My favorite part is Mike's role in this experience. Every time he has the same reaction. As if this has never happened to me before. As if we are dealing with this for the first time e v e r. He forgets this sort of thing happens to me all the time, and has all my life. Then he immediately assumes $65,464,572,678 has been charged in the "brief" time our financial ticket has been misplaced. Which , to keep myself honest here, is normally a good 48+ hours before I realize it's missing. And it takes me another 4 hours to retrace my steps with my blank memory, all the while promising him I know it's not stolen. I just left it somewhere- trust me. I experience this so often it's like leaving your CDs in the car and trusting the car wash people. Somehow they are still there when you get your car back every time! just like that. not smiling. it's okay. it's not stolen. i promise....

So Mike is incredibly patient and confused as to how exactly I could misplace something so valuable (and so often). Before I blink he has checked the account 5,000 times. And the best is how nonchalant I am about the whole ordeal because it's (sadly) as common an experience as getting an oil change. I have learned what Ebay proclaims: people really are good. And on the inside I think it makes him 700 times more concerned and frustrated, but on the outside he is insanely calm. A total cucumber. I love that about this man. He has the kind of control over his emotions top politicians wish they could have. He could really be a poker champion.

I wish I could blame it on hormone imbalance brain, because that would come to an end in a chunk of months. And it might work as an excuse for the dirty clothing I put unwashed into the dryer this afternoon. But let's be honest, I have permanent pregnancy brain here people. What can I say, it's part of my charm.