"Hey, honey: Go fish!"

Here's an emailed post from our new friend Lori!

My husband and I enjoy fishing. We had gone a summer or two ago to Glendale Lake as we do on occasion. This particular day, I had to "go." So he tosses me the keys to the truck so I can find the bathroom up the road.

Turns out after I walk up the little hill where we parked, there was a bathroom right there. So I proceed to throw the keys in my shirt pocket where they'll be safe and walk a little farther to the bathroom. As many of you know, these aren't the hi-tech toilets or anywhere near as clean as home. So, I bend over to lay some TP on the seat and the keys come clanking down hitting the seat, before coming to rest on the floor. UGH! That was a close call!

(YaGoof! says: Lori, Ya Goof!)

So as I am standing there counting my lucky stars that the keys didn't go the other direction, I figure, "OK, why not scare hubby too?" So after I do my business—with the keys in my hand—I leave the "facilities," tuck the keys in my back pocket and return to the fishing area. As I approach, I start telling him that there was a bathroom right here and I didn't need the keys, and good thing too—cause they fell out of my pocket when I bent over to do the TP thing. Well, he saw where I was going with it, and was like "OH, NO!!! Tell me you didn't!!!"

I couldn't keep a straight face long enough to fool him so I admitted having the keys in my pocket. Had I really dropped the keys in the "outhouse," we'd have had to call his dad to bring us the spare keys. I can hear that conversation!!

Anyhow, now I have it hanging over my head. Every so often when we are out, my husband will ask, "Do you have the keys?"—followed by, "Oh, that's right, you're not allowed to have keys."

Thanks, Lori! I feel a little funny mentioning this right now—but you're now entered to win free CHOCOLATE!