Saying goodbye to grandchildren is always bittersweet. Promises to call more often and visit more frequently are feeble attempts to stay more connected. Every visit leaves us wanting more. We pack as much fun as possible into a few weeks.
We are traveling to Austin to be ready for the much anticipated leg surgery on Wednesday. I am not nervous, just ready to get on with recovery. We expect to be in Austin six weeks for physical therapy. I miss Bacalar and my puppers.
DOS TORTAS
On Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, we were heading out to be with family. Hat? check, bathing suit? check, cell phone? check, keys?
Standing in front of our rental car I reached into the end pocket of my purse for the car keys. They weren’t there. I try my best to have a designated place for the keys. Mmmm. No keys.
In the parking lot of our condo, we began digging. Still no keys. Back inside, we searched through all the obvious and not so obvious places, pockets, counter tops, bathroom? Nope.
The conclusion was that they must be locked in the trunk from when we unloaded the car the night before. It didn’t make sense but where else could they be? We tried reaching the car rental company, a local lock smith, and finally a Nissan dealer thirty minutes away. My brother volunteered to come over and call AAA a roadside assistance company, when WE FOUND THEM (ok Lisa found them. Credit where credit is due.)
Drum roll, they were under the dresser in our bedroom. As near as I can figure, I placed them on the bed and when I climbed in, the keys went flying and slid under the dresser.
It was a very stressful hour with a happy ending.
DOS TORTAS
Jack Scott, author of Perking the Pansies and Turkey Street
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