My 89-year-old mom only drives around our little town. The farthest she goes is to the post office which is a mile down the road. It’s just safer for everyone. Case in point, she hit my car. Which was on the side of the driveway, it’s not like she even backed into it, she sideswiped it.  This is a car I got when we had to take my 90-year-old aunt’s driving privileges away. I had it registered and insured for a total of 4 days when mom hit it.

That’s not even what this story is about. This is a story about dropping the car off at the body shop.  I have a Ford Escape and the newer car, a Ford Focus, the one mom hit is the Ford Focus. The keys for the two cars are identical. I had to drop the Focus off on a Sunday which meant using the key drop box. The plan was, I drive to work in the Escape on Sunday, my son meets me after with the Focus to drop it off., he drives me home. Easy so far, right?

I got out of work, went to the body shop, filled out the form then dropped it and the keys in the little bag, sealed it up and into the locked box it went. Did anybody see what just happened there? I filled out the form, put the ESCAPE keys in the envelope and dropped it in the box. I was leaving the Focus, which hadn’t even arrived at the body shop yet, neither had its keys.

Well. There was a dilemma. They make those drop boxes in a way that means you can’t reach in and grab keys, I did try though. I even took the snow brush and try to fit the handle in there.

My son arrived and perhaps because he knows me or perhaps it was kismet but he had grabbed the extra set of Escape keys on his way out.  Solution. We had a way to get home! I filled out yet another form with a long explanation of why they had the other set of keys. I put it all in the envelope and dropped it in the box.

I had called and left a message that afternoon. The following morning, I called and explained what I had done, the polite young lady told to stop by and get the keys. Maybe it’s because I felt foolish or maybe she really was chuckling when she looked up as I walked in and said, “you’re the key lady, aren’t you?”





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