I just returned from three days of soccer in Virginia Beach. As manager of my daughter’s soccer team I have some responsibilities on these soccer trips that are above the usual parental duties. Keeping track of the team player documents and making sure everyone knows when and where they are supposed to meet can be a little stressful. This weekend we had two players who managed to arrive in Virginia Beach without their uniforms so that was an additional little crisis to manage. However, I managed to keep a pretty even keel throughout the weekend.
This morning, however, I am back into the domestic fray. I am afraid the keel is not quite so even. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that we currently have five drivers at home and only three vehicles. Normally, I take my husband to his carpool pick up site and I keep the car. This week his carpool is down to two people so he asked to take our Prius so he could use the HOV lane. Fine. We can manage for a few days. I arrived home from Virginia Beach just before midnight last night. Before crawling into bed, I asked Dear Husband if he had the keys to the minivan. “No, I just have a Prius key. Second Son has the minivan key.” As Dear Husband got ready for work this morning, I asked again if he had a minivan key. “No, I just have a Prius key.” Great. I hop out of bed around 7:00am and get ready to take Youngest Son to his soccer training. I go downstairs and wake up Second Son to get the minivan key. “I don’t have the minivan key. I gave it to Dad”. I have not had my first cup of coffee. The trek to Second Son’s bedroom took me through the basement living area that has become the lair of College Sons. Let’s just say it was not a sight to see in a caffeine-deprived state when another minor crisis is brewing because the function of a keyless minivan is reduced to that of a lawn ornament. I expressed my displeasure in unmistakable terms and soon all four of my children were up and trying to soothe the savage beast. My oldest son gave me the keys to his car. I poured a cup of coffee then took Youngest Son to soccer training.
While in route, I called Dear Husband at work. For the third time I asked if he had a minivan key. He again answered, “I only have a Prius key.” (Did anyone hear a cock crow?) He then put his hand in his uniform pocket and said, “Oh! I do have the minivan key.” Welcome home!