Has anyone seen my keys?!

Jane and the kids misplace keys. Not me. I don’t. I always return my key to the keyrack. That’s where they go. When the key isn’t on the hook, which happens from time to time, I find it on some surface in the house. Usually, the kitchen table. Then, without fanfare, I pick it up, hang it up, and restrain myself from texting the family group thread a passive-aggressive set of photos—one showing where I found the key and the other showing the key rack. A key to living a harmonious life—restraint. ✧✧✧ As you might imagine, a key is missing. To be more specific, my key to the minivan is missing—the one with the holographic sticker that says BRIAN on the key fob—the key fob that automatically adjusts the seat and mirrors to just how I like it. The other key to the minivan is there. But not mine. I check the kitchen table. No key. I check the newel cap at the base of the garage stairs—things accumulate there. No key. I run downstairs to check the desk in my office—maybe, in a rush, I walked in the house, went down to my office, and placed it there. No key. I text, “Has anyone seen my key to the white car?” No response. Begrudgingly, I take the other key. A key to living a harmonious life—compromise. ✧✧✧ I’ve learned from Jane that things usually show up, and that active searching, when not needed, is best avoided. Things, almost 100% of the time, show up. Just not when I’d like them to. It’s a matter of patience. And I can’t shake the feeling of being irked. ✧✧✧ It’s been a few days. I wait for a child (or Jane) to tell me the absurd place they found the key, and we will laugh—“Oh, it was in your shoe in your old gym bag? That’s so funny!” ✧✧✧ Every time I use the other one, the remaining key—the one that automatically adjusts the seat to the other memorized setting—I grow a bit more resentful toward those with whom I live. Over and over again, I hear the victim in me—“They don’t care if I have to spend my time and my money to replace the things they lose.” Arggggh. Living in community with teenagers is frustrating. A key to living a harmonious life—tolerating and not acting out. ✧✧✧ Today, in preparation for a ride to Trader Joe’s, I toss my empty backpack toward my bike in the garage. It lands in such a way that it exposes the key—my key—in the outside mesh pouch. Ooops. I have a slight memory of putting it there—to see if the auto door unlock would work from there. ✧✧✧ I text the family an apology for blaming them in my head. Dale Carnegie writes, “Any fool can try to defend his or her mistakes—and most fools do—but it raises one above the herd and gives one a feeling of nobility and exultation to admit one’s mistakes.” The key to living a harmonious life—admit mistakes fully and generously. “`