It started out pleasantly enough. I had a dream that my wife and I were secret agents infiltrating a totalitarian nation to rescue students from government labs where heinous experiments were being done to them. So unspeakable were these crimes that the dream didn’t bother to explain them.
Going over the whole plot would take too long but it included double agents behind enemy lines, disguises, secret wings and hidden stairwells, tense moments with guards, and an escape by train. It had elements of Mission Impossible, Shining Through, and The Great Escape.
When I finally woke up, I was excited to face the day. After seeing my wife off to help some friends out and reading my Bible and praying, I got dressed for basketball. I don’t always play on Monday mornings, but I wanted this game because I hadn’t played in a while and needed to unwind from the weekend.
The game was a blast! Intense and competitive without being jerks. I’m not a fan of let’s-just-play-for-fun-and-not-try-to-win games because then I’d rather watch a movie. I do like playing for fun and winning is fun.
Afterwards, I grabbed lunch with my brother and some good childhood friends. It was great catching up and seeing how while lots of things have changed, lots of things also stay the same. Then it was off to the office for our staff meeting.
We had reports from Dan who had just come back from our campus ministry in Baguio. Perci who came from the US wowed everyone with his chocolates. And CJ gave a report on his trip to China. All of the updates were encouraging and were a great way to start the discussion. Three hours later we were done, primed to get things done this week. Dan and I caught a van at the public transportation hub in Market Market.
I got home, changed, and waited for my wife to pick me up. Together, we went to Bizu in Promenade, Greenhills for the food tasting of our friends’ wedding caterer. Bizu is expensive but very justifiably so. The quality ingredients, thoughtfulness of the menu, and blending of flavors are worth every peso for foodies.
Our dinner was everything you could ask for in a meal with friends – great food, wonderful company, and a hilarious conversation. We finally and regretfully had to part at almost 11 pm. My wife and I drove home looking forward to resting after a long day, but the day didn’t seem to want to end just yet.
When we arrived, I realized that I wasn’t holding the house keys – our only copy. I knew my wife didn’t have them either so where were they? We checked all over the car. Not there. Did I leave it in the door??? We ran upstairs. Nope, it was locked. But were the robbers inside???
We drove back to Bizu, calling our friends to check if they saw it. We pulled up and I ran in to ask the waiters and staff about it. Nope, nothing was seen. Did they throw it out by accident? I was prepared to root through their garbage just to check. No, that was an impossibility, they said.
We checked the parking lot where we parked. I asked the guards if they saw anything. Nothing. We borrowed their flashlight and went through the car again. Every nook and cranny was inspected. I found a pair of clean black socks and a crumpled 20 peso bill, but no key.
As we drove home, I ran through all the possible scenarios in my mind. (All but one) My wife was the picture of calmness and serenity. Never once dropping an “I told you so” or blaming me. Me on the other hand, my mind was whirring.
Did I drop it on the sidewalk on my way to my wife? Did the restaurant people throw it out unknowingly? Did I leave it in the keyhole and some opportunistic people let themselves in and were looting the house even as I was thinking about it??!!
For some reason that last scenario stuck with me and I called the building to ask the guard to post someone just outside the door to catch the thieves red-handed! Also, please call a locksmith because I might need him.
It was past midnight when we arrived at the house again. I spent a few minutes walking up and down the sidewalk to inspect it again. Nothing. The guard was waiting dutifully but looked a little confused as to his role there. I asked him if the locksmith had arrived. He was on the way. We would have to break the lock and hopefully install a new one so we could sleep.
Resigned to this fate, I shrugged, stuck my hands in my pockets, and my fingers closed around the keychain.
I pulled out the house keys.
I don’t know how I missed it when I patted my pockets down. It was like these jeans had a portal to another dimension where the key was deposited until I pulled it out again.
Relief – That there wasn’t a thief right now on our beds, using my laptop and wearing my clothes, while eating my wife’s salted caramel chocolate.
Embarrassment – My friends who called the resto, the helpful guards in the parking lot, and the security people in our condominium including the one right in front of me who watched me pull the key out of my pocket and stare at it like it was a rabbit from a hat.
Gratitude – At my wife who patiently waited the whole scenario out, wanting nothing more than to go to bed. No negativity from her at all, even after I’d commented a few times before on her tendency to look for things instead of checking the things right under her nose.
Hilarity – I mean, who does that???
Epilogue: I texted our friends who made the call, apologized for my silliness and thanked them for their effort. They laughed as friends will. I went downstairs to drop something off with the security team and had a good laugh with them as well. Then I went upstairs, and after a well-deserved shower, told my wife how much I appreciated her support through this and held her close to me as we drifted off to sleep.
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