Damsel in Distress (Enter Eye Roll Here)

I despise having to be rescued. It annoys me when I get into a situation that beyond my control and I can't get myself out. I'm not good at asking for help and, well, I HATE having to call my husband, resulting him to leave work to bail me out of whatever nonsensical situation I've created for myself. And you better believe I can get into some stupid situations what with my brain being permanently damaged by all these kids and all. Really.

Yesterday I went to the gym to spin because evidently I enjoy feeling like death is eminent. Actually, it's less feeling like I'm going to die now, which is good, but it's still HARD. But that's another story. I was running late, another thing that I detest, to the point of it creating anxiety, but I decided to go spin anyway. Somewhere between checking in at the front desk, and getting to the locker room, I realized my keys were not in my hand. Feeling comfort at the fact that I had used them to check in, I figured I stuck them in my bag, or left them on the counter at the kids club so I didn't worry about it at all. I should have. An hour and a half later, I had sweated buckets, showered and done something with my hair and face, and felt pretty darn great. I went and got my two littlest buddies and went digging through my bag for keys. Not there. No one in the child care had seen them, so I went to the front desk and no one had turned them in. I KNEW they weren't in the locker room, but I looked anyway because I was convinced they were somewhere in that gym.

I tried to call my friend who would for SURE have come and picked us up, but I couldn't remember her phone number. It was programmed into my cell phone which was locked in the van with a totally dead battery. I debated calling AAA, but didn't think they were much help with no key to start the car with. Anyway. I called Kevin's cell and asked him to 1. Find the number of the glass company that was due at our home any minute to say I wouldn't be there, and 2. Find the phone number I couldn't remember. Turns out, the number we were looking for wasn't in the phone book yet, so he just came to get me. He, who was in California for 3 days last week, and probably had a zillion things to do. UGH.

While we waited, we wandered around the shopping center. At one point Ben managed to get his diaper off out from under his pants. That ,my friends, is talent. Also, I had no diapers with me (yes, locked in the car.) However, under the circumstances, my tired and hungry boys were so good and patient.

In the end, the keys were found and the gym called me at 7:30 last night. I'm about to go get them now. Kevin keeps saying to me that I've lost more keys than anyone he's ever known, and he's right. I argue back, however that only one set have I lost FOREVER. Yes, I have issues with keys. I wish I didn't because it's annoying.