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Topic: Lock (03/06/06)
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TITLE: Have you seen my keys? | Previous Challenge Entry
By Paul Swann
03/10/06 -
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Now, sometimes it is more frustrating knowing right where your keys are, but not being able to get to them. I have friends named David and Carolyn. They have a son named Joshua. One day, when he was two years old, they returned from shopping and accidentally locked their keys in the car. No problem, they thought. Joshua is still in the car, although asleep. They tapped on the window to awaken their little sweetie and have him simply unlock the door and free him and the keys. "Josh, sweetie, unlock the door for mommy." "Josh, sweetie, unlock the door for daddy." Two hours later, and after many false unlock attempts, mommy and daddy were going nuts. Josh had though this all a great game, acted like he was going to unlock the door, but then grinned a toothy grin, and retreated from the door to the safety of the inner sanctum of the car. They called the fire department. It didn't work. Josh refused. Eventually, he gave in, finding the game no longer fun after he became hunger.
Soon after my lovely bride and I were wed, we journeyed to Corinth, Mississippi to interview for a new preaching position. I stopped at a gas station just a mile or so before the church building. It was winter and quite cold, even for Mississippi. As I got out of the truck the door shut - confidently. That feeling somewhere down in the far reaches of my stomach told me that the keys that would have normally accompanied my hand on the way from the ignition to my pocket lay, not in my then empty hands, but still in the ignition, proudly keeping the engine running. Frantically, I started doing what any sane person about to interview at a church for a preaching job, - cursing at the top of my lungs. No, I didn't. But, things were not looking well. I was supposed to be at the church building in 30 minutes or so and my only mode of motorized transportation was slowly burning the gas out of the tank. People came and went from the store. A little old lady, perhaps 80, asked if I had locked my keys in the truck. I punched her. No I didn't, it was actually a gently nudge. I really don't know how she fell. Thankfully, it was only a sprain. Church people made their weekly trek to the store before church. I explained to one my predicament. Through the help of a delicate instrument especially made for such situations I used my skill to finally free the keys from the ignition. I still have the bent clothes hanger, framed on my wall.
We didn't get the job, but we got the keys. If only I knew what to do with the extra keys that appeared at our house recently. I don't know why, but for some reason, they are real easy to find at night.
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