Tuesday, October 7 - Thursday, October 9

Andrew was still sick all week with the cold/flu, though by the end of the week he'd shown some improvement. He is sleeping in the guest room, which confuses Farrah, and she has alternated where she sleeps at night, mostly ending up with me. 

Wednesday, Greta had a XC meet and came in 6th. I wasn't able to go--the only meet I've missed this year--because of meetings at work (this was a rescheduled meet from a rain cancellation). Andrew was there to cheer her, but getting there was a problem because he couldn't find any of the keys to the Mini, which was blocking in the Volvo in the driveway. He called me at work. I found one of the keys in my purse--I'd driven the kids to school and just threw my purse into my work bag when I left to catch the bus--but the other one was nowhere to be found. So Andrew walked to the meet, not too far away in Schenley, then walked to CMU to get the key from me since I had to stay on campus for a late meeting.

He was certain the kids or I was responsible. It didn't help that Lucia was one of the last to have a key, when she went out in the morning to look for a bag of chips she'd left in the car after piano lessons and was in a snit because Greta hadn't already brought them in; and then she couldn't find the chips and instead saw the empty bag in the trash; and, in her words, "I was mad so I threw the key and it clattered." Threw it where? She didn't know. 

But I knew, I knew, that Andrew thought I had the other key. I knew he was waiting for me to find it in another bag, or a jacket pocket. And I knew that if I found it, I would have to lie.

So it was with whoops of triumph that Greta and I greeted the discovery of the key in the basement when we were tidying up Thursday night. Andrew had been working in the basement while the cleaners were here on Tuesday, and had moved the car to accommodate the cleaners' car since our road is under construction, and had just put the key on the windowsill by the couch and forgotten about it. I gravely invited Andrew to the basement to "see something," which of course he assumed was a leak or other house disaster, and instead I led him over to the windowsill and dramatically pointed to the key. "IT WASN'T MEEEEE," I crowed. "You thought it was me but it wasn't! It was you! You had the key!" He accepted the fact with humility and admitted, yes, he had assumed I had the key all along. 

I am very relieved I did not have the key.