Do you know how I know there is a God? It is not because a dozen earnest young people with backpacks carrying a large wooden cross walked by my window this morning. (Last week, I saw a woman leading a beautiful white horse. I knew it meant something but I did not know what.) The cross did not take much figuring out. It was either a warning to stop blogging or a sign I was about to have a bad day.
It was a bad day and the reason I know there is a God is because I have lost the car keys. Usually my husband loses the car keys. And after everything I said about him persistently letting the car run out of petrol. All I spend when that happens is time and an impressive amount of bad language. Replacing the car keys is going to cost more than £1,200. (I should actually say "car key" because obviously we do not have a spare. Why would we have a spare? It is not like we are ever going to lose it. ) It is going to cost this huge amount of money because you have to reprogramme the car's "brain" and "send away". Who knew the car had a brain? I find the fact that the car has a brain almost as worrying as the fact mine is missing along with the car key. I would so love to blame the children. But I know it is my fault. I keep putting things down and completely forgetting where they are. I have now searched the house six times to no avail. I lost them yesterday morning and thought I might find them before my husband got back from London late last night. No such luck. What is worse, is the fact that he is turning the house inside out and not a word of blame has escaped his lips. I hate it when he does that.