This morning, as I was busy doing something or other, Rosemary walked by with my house keys, tapping them on her hip like Lori from the Partridge Family played the tambourine. Whatever I was busy doing - I forget what it was - meant that I couldn't stop and grab them from her, and of course she is two, so that means there would most certainly be protests and foot stomping. I made a mental note that in one second when I finished doing whatever it was, I would go hunt those keys down, so they wouldn't get lost forever. But I have the memory of an angel (none), so it wasn't until we were in a big hurry to leave 2 hours later that I thought to ask Rosie if she recalled where she'd put them. She looked at me blankly for a split-second before walking into her room, to a pile of toys in the corner, pulled out her pink backpack, opened a pocket, pulled out another purse, and pulled out the keys.
Good memory.
Of course she did not remember where she had put her favorite bedtime lovey, Ba, who vanished around the same time as the keys. She told me I had probably put him somewhere. Classic. It was a baffling disappearance that caused some drama at nap time. It took me to long time find him here:
Bottom left.
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