Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Locked Out

It's funny how different people are born with certain affinities.  Let's take singing, for example.  Some people are just born with a pretty voice.  They didn't inherit the talent or acquire it through training, they can just flat-out sing. It's a gift.

Other people may have a talent that has a logical explanation.  My son was an excellent baseball pitcher; he pitched a no-hitter during a Little League All Star game when he was twelve.  Was his talent inherited?  Not exactly.  You see, he was a huge baby.  His hand-eye coordination was highly developed because his large motor skills...ah....weren't.  The kid was so big he couldn't move. 

It's okay, you can blame me.  I'm his mother.

Thankfully, he grew out of his chubbiness by the time he was four and now he's pretty proud of it.  But I think his highly developed fine motor skills are one of the reasons he can play the guitar so beautifully.

So, I'm wondering, why do some people have an affinity for negative things?  Like, stupid negative things?  Like, why do some people continually lock themselves out of the house?

Let me say right up front that my house key is special.  I've tried to have spare copies made but nobody has the right blank.  Apparently there are only two keys in the world like my key and they are both inevitably locked in the house when I'm locked out. 

I do try to keep one of the keys hidden outside.  Wow, I'd really lock myself out a lot if it was never in its hiding place. 

Last Friday night I decided to wear my blue coat.  I had already locked the door when I realized I left my keys in my black coat.  A kind friend came and picked me up...she was especially kind because she also took me home.  And at 10 pm she and her unsuspecting husband ended up helping me break into my house.  I'm not going to give you the specifics, but it involved tromping through four feet of snow in the dark, a pocket knife and one of us being wedged into a small hole.  It wasn't me.

I'm still feeling kind of bad about the whole thing, but I'm trying not to.  I figure there must be some fundamental reason I have an affinity for locking myself out of the house.

So I'm going to blame my mother.

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