The Case of the Conceptual Conundrum

He was late. We sat, having our coffee and trying to read the Sunday newspaper, as he tore around the house getting ready for work. It was a little like trying to read while sitting in the breakdown lane on the freeway, with cars whizzing by every few seconds.

As I began reading the book reviews, I noticed that his rushing about had become somewhat more agitated, and I could hear drawers and closets being opened and then slammed closed. He rushed into the living room, and began feel around in the sofa cushions and looking under the furniture, mumbling to himself as he did. His father looked at me from over the top of his glasses and raised his eyebrows before going back to the sports section.

Finally, he burst into the kitchen, looking a bit manic. He cast his eyes over the counter-tops, and then yanked open the refrigerator. 

“Stop!” I said. “Whatever are you doing?”

“I’m late! I’m late! And I can’t find my keys!” he exclaimed frantically.

“Well, slow down a minute, and let’s think about this. Did you look in your room?”

“Yes, yes, of course I looked in my room. I’ve looked everywhere! I can’t find them!”

“Did you check your pockets?” I asked, ever the sweet voice of reason.

He stopped thrashing around the kitchen for a moment and, shooting me a look that just screamed Mother! in his best sarcastic teenaged tone, he thrust his hands into his pockets. When he pulled them out, there in his right hand were errant keys. He stood looking at them, lying there innocently in his palm, for a long moment, and then said,

“What a concept!”

I wrote this as my first submission to the Corruption of Evidence Challenge hosted by The Tenth Daughter of Memory.


  1. You know, I would have thought this a nice bit of fiction - but fiction nonetheless, had I not done the very selfsame thing not more than two days ago. I looked EVERYWHERE for my keys - I even checked my pockets - everywhere, that is, but my belt loop.

    I have my keys on a 'D' ring and they were clipped to my belt loop at my side.

    Needless to say, the flesh and blood women in my life haven't stopped ridiculing me since.

  2. Been there, done that. I just need to evolve into a key-less creature, I think. Heh.

    Welcome to 10thDoM!

  3. Been there, done that. Last week I lost my MP3 player and headphones. I searched my backpack 3 times before I let my husband look. They were there. He found them of course. :-)

  4. That could have been me! Hey, glad to see you have joined 10thDoM :).


  5. Argh. I have been HIM. And usually it's my daughter that ends up snarking about my conceptualization... :)

  6. Thanks for the welcome, and your comments!

    It seems we all have some kind of a key issue (I say "issue" because I am reluctant to admit to a paranoia, phobia or fetish). So, as your friend, I feel I must warn you about the storm drain monster. You know the one: it lives in that grated, DEEP, dark place you walk over (or way around if you are smart) in parking lots, where you almost always have your keys in your hand. It hasn't gotten me yet, but I KNOW it's lurking, just waiting for me to let down my guard.

  7. ha ha. I just did that with my eyeglasses a couple months ago. I was holding them in my left hand.

  8. I love that youth have mangled English to the point that everyday banality can be "awesome" and the reality of existent keys can be a "concept" Great post, welcome to 10DoM.

  9. Darn pockets! They're just too obvious to look there first! Fun piece! Welcome!

  10. Me got tributes and awards for you!
    Please drop by.....



  11. ha. yeah i have been there as well...

  12. Hmmmm... Why does this scenario sound so familiar? Heh, heh! Actually, I no longer have that problem; my keys have a home on a peg right next to the door. When I come in and close the door after me they go right on the peg, to be easily found when I go out again. But...

    At the changes of the seasons, while I'm out and about, I may sometimes forget exactly where I put the keys on my body; they tend to go in different pockets according to what I'm wearing, and if it's still soon after adapting to the weather, I may forget exactly which pocket that is!

  13. The oddest place to lose my key? My bra. I had no pockets at the time and couldn't just put them down. Happy TT

  14. I swear my son comes back three times each morning after leaving the house because he's 'lost' something that is usually on his person! My problem is I lose my glasses and the dark frames on a black kitchen bench and me half blind means I have to 'feel' for them. GAH!


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