Monday, September 1, 2008

Why I Love Geoff

Geoff has a tendency to lose his cell phone. The most recent of which has lasted almost an entire year after the previous one was taken snorkeling with us in Maui.

The one that went snorkeling in Maui replaced the one I got him for Christmas 2 years ago (which, of course, replaced another one that had been dropped so many times Geoff used a rubber band to keep it closed) and he lost it -- I am not making this up -- 3 weeks after Christmas. I found that one between the couch cushions last summer.

What I'm saying here is -- he can be somewhat absentminded when it comes to small items that frequently go in his pockets.

Geoff also enjoys ignoring important instructions from me, such as "Please turn off the stove because I'm feeding the baby and the pasta sauce is going to catch fire and burn down the city of Atascadero and then where will they put the crazy criminals? WHERE?".

Of course, he's usually only half listening to me when he's busy plotting his fantasy football draft picks on the computer which -- I have been assured -- are GREAT this year and we could win money if he does well. Priorities, people. Priorities.

And, to be honest, I'm totally used to, and therefore only moderately annoyed by, these quirky Geoffisms.

So that today while we were at the beach and Geoff lost the keys to the car, I wasn't too shocked or upset. If my family didn't read this blog, I'd say "I totally didn't lose my shit", which is totally not normal procedure for me in situations where MY HUSBAND LOST THE KEYS TO THE GODDAMNED CAR! But I'm trying to keep this a g-rated affair. Trying.

And the important information I want to get across to you people is that he lost my keys. Not his set of keys that go to his truck (which at the time was parked at our condo), but the keys to the car that was parked alongside the highway with the car seat in it that we had driven to the beach today.

I took this picture of his keys about 30 seconds before he realized he wasn't sure where my keys were (Phoebe likes the sound of keys), which was about 45 seconds before I freaked out and realized we were going to have to live on the beach forever and that would mean Cook's Illustrated wouldn't know where to forward my subscription:



After a valiant search by Geoff (and Lola who -- as it turns out -- is worthless as a search and rescue dog when it comes to Ford Fusion keys) we gave up and accepted that my keys are lost forever in the ocean or sand of Cayucos (they have a silver four-leaf-clover key chain from Tiffany's if you're in the area and find 'em and yes I realize how hilarious it is that the lost keys have that key chain while the only thing qualifying as a "lucky" adornment on Geoff's set of keys is a Men's Wearhouse discount card).

What I'm getting at here (since obviously I am home and have access to the Internet and won't be filing for divorce one week before our one-year anniversary -- sorry everyone who had money on it) is the reason I love Geoff:

When I asked him if he locked the car door as we were getting ready to walk to the sand, he pulled my keys out of his pocket, said "I think so, but lemme make sure", clicked the button to open the trunk, and put the keys back in his pocket.

This meant we were later able to get inside the car for the spare key so we didn't have to call anyone to unlock the door for us to drive home, making me so incredibly happy he didn't pay attention to me when I gave him a specific instruction that I almost don't care if he never does it ever again.

Also -- and I know you were wondering -- he did not lose his cell phone. So, you know, little victories.

1 comment:

Annie said...

I have a metal detector if you want to borrow it :) LOL!