Please welcome John Bryson to Meno Mama's site today with lots of comment love and enjoy his tale of the lost keys. Thanks!
It's quite an honor being asked to guest-post for Meno Mom on this Wacky Wednesday. Actually, it's quite intimidating. Marcia writes for Huffington Post, appears In The Powder Room, has been featured on a podcast, and has her writing immortalized in a book. And her blog has actual readers, the human kind with two eyes and a pulse, that aren't just her hitting refresh a lot of times on her home page or creating elaborate fake internet identities, such as J. Bryson, Bryson, J., J.B., or John B., to boost her total readership.
While Marcia's list of accomplishments is most impressive, about the biggest credit I can feature on my resume is my stint as a featured writer for Lethargy Monthly. I was two weeks late submitting my article, "Lunch - The Final Meal Before Bed," but they didn't seem to mind.
Now that I'm being featured in the big leagues I know I have to come up with something huge - an exciting story that will keep Marcia's readers on the edge of their seats, drawing from the most compelling moments of my rich and textured life.
So, this is a tale about how I recently lost my keys.
As much as I'm all about not losing my stuff, I will admit that on occasion, I have misplaced a minor object or two, including $1,800 worth of Disney tickets and irreplaceable court documents confirming the legality of our most recent adoption. So, it came as no big shock to realize that, over the recent Memorial Day weekend, I misplaced my keys.
My wife and kids were away that weekend feeding the mosquitoes while camping with the in-laws, leaving me unsupervised and to my own devices, most of which were of the electronic variety, but also included renting movies, eating fast food, and losing my keys.
Upon realizing what I had done, my first plan of attack was to search every room of the house that I had gone into while my family was away. I checked the bedroom, bathroom, and family room, including under the big recliner where I rested my widening hind-end the bulk of the time.
The one room I didn't have to check was the kitchen. Due to my disdain for meal preparation and tendency to enjoy eating out, I didn't touch an appliance in the kitchen all weekend - the only thing turned on in that part of the house was me after seeing some Betty White cleavage on the cover of an AARP Magazine which I found sitting on the counter for some reason.
Convinced I had searched the house thoroughly, I remembered that besides watching the latest installment of the Die Hard franchise, A Good Day To Cash In On The Die Hard Name With A Vengeance (And A Side Of Tartar Sauce), I had cut our lawn. Fearing that the keys had slipped out of my pocket while riding my orange Husqvarna up and down the weedy acre of patchy grass, I commenced walking around my yard, head down, trying to pick out the shiny gleam of a lost keychain.
Having less luck than a drunken younger version of myself at a Vegas blackjack table, I decided to retrace my steps around town. My first stop was the video store, where I had no luck with finding my keys. On the bright side, the clerk did offer me anything from their lost and found box, which included an array of sunglasses, six umbrellas, a pair of dentures, and a stack of Florida presidential ballots from the 2000 election.
My next stop was the local Jimmy John's, which I had visited twice, ordering a #9 with easy mayo both times. I walked in and asked about the keys and was told they didn't have them. Both times.
I headed back home ready to give up. I plopped down into my recliner and heard an unusual jingle amidst the usual creaking of my body and the chair's protesting springs. Further investigation revealed the missing keys had fallen down the side of the chair and had gotten wrapped around one if the aforementioned springs. After a not-so-good good half hour of operating on the underside of the overturned chair, I was able to liberate the keys with a pair of pliers, a dozen obscenities, and three bandages for my scraped knuckles.
I suspect this is the last time I'll be left at home alone for the weekend.
John Bryson is a big fan of Meno Mom and can be found at his occasionally updated web site Smack Of Ham Presents and on Twitter @SmackOfHamBlog. Most recently, John has published his first book, The Blackout! And Other Tales From Around The House, a collection of nine humorous adventures that you can read on your Kindle, computer, or iPad.