Sometimes, best laid plans don't work out.
|"Well, according to the checklist, we should have everything," replied John as he examined our seemingly overstuffed mid-sized SUV, with his hand pensively on his chin, brow furrowed. I handed him my list I had already gone over, twice. It took everything within me to keep from rudely shoving it at him. He looked it over, tallying the items in his head. John makes Excel spreadsheet lists for just about everything and prints them out on an as needed basis. He tends to over plan, while I'm more spontaneous. Our spur of the moment, weekend road trip was becoming less exciting with the passing of each minute during his over-analyzing every little what if. I rubbed my forehead, feeling the oncoming headache; it was time to hit the road.
"Alrighty then, let's do this!" He finally declared and climbed into the driver's seat, then began fumbling with his pockets.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Babe, do you have your house key?"
I began rambling in my purse, "I know it's around here somewhere." Suddenly, I pictured my house key on the dresser. I hated carrying around lots of keys and didn't see the need for both of us to take our SUV keys, so those keys were also in the house. John kept all his keys on one ring. He always told me that was the best way.
"It's locked in the house. Where's yours?"
He looked at me, sheepishly, "On the kitchen table."