I arrived home this evening to find a note with the word "keys" on it, lying on the sidetable next to my chair. I asked my mom about it.

"Oh, I need to get the mail key back from you," she said. "We've got the one, but the other one with the house key isn't there."

"I don't have the mail key," I told her.

"Well, sure you do," she insisted.

I got up and checked the key hook by the garage door. There were my mom's car keys, my car keys, my extra car key, the key to my grandparent's house, and the spare mail key, but no mail key/house key. You can't miss them: they're on a Winchester Mystery House souvenir keychain!

'Well, now, that's odd,' I thought.

We ended up nearly tearing the house apart looking for those damn keys. I checked every hiding place I know - in my bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, the den, my car, my mom's car, the pockets of every jacket I've worn in the past six months, the pockets of every pair of pants I've worn in the past two weeks (even the ones that had been washed and ironed, I was that desperate), and was just about to dig through the garbage, I was so frustrated at not finding the keys.

We sat down and calmly went over the last time the keys had been used - it was this past Saturday when I went up to spray WD-40 on the lock of our mailbox because it's been sticking. (It doesn't stick anymore, by the way; WD-40 rocks!). I remember coming home with both the can of WD-40 and the keys, but couldn't remember what I did with them afterwards. The WD-40 was back in the cupboard, so I would've automatically hung up the keys, right? Right?

Then why aren't they there?

"Did you leave them on top of the box?" My mom asked.

"No," I said.

"Did you leave them in the lock?"

"NO! That would be retarded!"

When we'd exhausted every possible place the keys could've been, we gave up. We sat down and watched The Biggest Loser, and I ate my. I thought about those stupid keys the whole time. When there was a commercial, I was up rifling through some part of the house. Mom and I were both completely baffled by their disappearance. It was annoying as hell! I knew I wouldn't sleep tonight; I would lay there wondering where those damn stupid keys were.

Despite all this, mom and I weren't too upset. 'The keys are either here or they aren't,' we figured. 'No big.'

Such is the beauty of Zoloft and Paxil (or whatever it is mom's taking)! In the old days we would've been freaking-the-hell-out, yelling at each other, and basically going insane. Now, we don't stress over stuff. We figured, 'Well, if the keys are gone, it's no big deal. We can just change the lock on the front door, and call the post office to see what we need to do to get a new lock on our mailbox. No big.' We even laughed about the absurdity of it all!

I can't tell you how nice it is to be this chilled-out over something that is really, if you think about it, quite serious. If I had left the keys sitting there (which I would totally never do!) and someone picked them up, they could be stealing our mail - our checks, the pre-approved credit card applications I continuously get (and shred) - or they could break into our house. Although, technically, would it even be breaking in if they used the key? Whatever.

Five minutes later, it all became moot. After the show was over, I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed; mom already retired to her bedroom. I was flossing my teeth (like the good little Dental Diva I am!) when suddenly she was there at the door, a huge grin on her face.

"Guess what I found?" She asked.

'It can't be!' I thought. Aloud I said: "The keys?"

She nodded, barely suppressing her laughter. She held out her hand, and there they were: the mailbox/house keys on the Winchester Mystery House souvenir keychain!

"Where did you find them?" I asked.

"In the pocket of my raincoat," she answered.

"But, you looked there," I protested. "I saw you!"

"No," she said, "I looked in the other coat - the navy blue one - not the teal jacket."

"Bloody hell!" I said.

"Thank God!" She said.

We laughed hysterically and heaved gasping breaths of relief for a few minutes, then we once again retired for the evening. I'll be able to sleep now, knowing the keys are once again hanging up where they should be. And, knowing I hadn't done something stupid to lose them! What will keep me awake, for a while at least, is the fact that my mom didn't remember where she'd put them. It's not the first time she's done this sort-of thing. She's been forgetting stuff lately. Just little things. Where she puts stuff. But, it's no big deal, right? Sometimes people forget stuff. I forget stuff sometimes. It's no big. I hope.