I have locked my keys in my car three times in the past year. Last night, I achieved the trifecta of stupidity by locking them in the trunk. I have no idea why this happens to me, except that I was tired and I’ve known to be a little absent-minded now and then. Honestly, there’s nothing worse than hearing the door click shut a nanosecond before you realize your keys are inside. Often, they’re on the passenger seat or in the ignition, mocking me through the window.

Who puts your keys in the trunk, you ask? I did. For a second. Because my hands were full and I wanted to look at my little workout bible again before going into the gym. So I put down my water bottle, my iPod, and yes, my keys. And then I read my little book, tried to remember everything, picked up my iPod and water bottle, and gave the lid a push. And then at the last second, there it was – Oh my God. No! My keys! - followed almost immediately by the sound of the lock catching.

The worst part is really not that I locked my keys in my trunk. The worst part is that I had to call Mike to come get them out. We only live a few minutes away from our gym, so it seemed like a logical choice. But seriously, I might as well have handed him a license to tease. No need to look for material – it’s all right here, on a silver platter.

So he came, and I am still hearing about the incident. It surfaces when I least expect it, and probably will for a good week or so. But I guess I asked for it.

And on the upside, at least my keys were safe through the whole thing.