I hate it when that happens

For some time now Annie has had a jones for a new car. A minivan, actually. We've spent months looking over Consumer Reports (we're subscribers), going to auto dealers on Sunday, when they're closed, so as to look at what's out there without the sales guy breathing down our neck, and watching for deals. We finally bit the bullet and bought a new Toyota Sienna. Fine. We traded in my car because of the miles on it and we decided to keep Annie's older car because it's going to be paid off in less than a year. So I get her old car.

Now I always carried two sets of keys around with me. My car and her car. And she carried both sets, as well. I got tired of carrying cars keys around that I never really used, so I put them on a shelf one day and I haven't seen them since. Only now she needs that set of keys. Because she has to have both sets. Not that she NEEDS both sets, but that's just the way she is - she has to have both sets. I know you know what I'm talking about - it's just the way she is.

So I've been looking for the keys for days. She asks about the keys Every. Day. And don't even ask about the BP gift card I misplaced. With $60 worth of gas still on it. I can't find that either. My batting average is suffering a bit, these days.
And I hate it when that happens.