Shef came into my room this morning while I was still dozing. Dozing for as many minutes as possible.

“Mom!” he exclaimed. “Your underwear is on backwards!”

“They’re not on backwards,” I said, reaching around to tug them down a bit.

Shef looked confused. “But, your butt is really sticking out,” he said.

And then three hours later, when I was up and dressed and ready to take Shef to school, I realized I had no idea where my car keys were. I thought about it for a minute, and then I started to have a sinking feeling that they might be on the front seat of Dan’s car, where I sat last night.

I called Dan, already sort of hyperventilating about how irritating it would be for him to have to lose a half-hour of work because I can't keep track of my personal belongings. “I think my car keys are in your car,” I blurted.

“No they’re not,” Dan said calmly. “I've seen them. They’re in the bathroom.”

“Oh,” I said. Of course they are.