I love Brooks.
I love him even when he locks the keys in the car.
On this particular occurrence, we were visiting a new church for the first time since we moved to Chicagoland. We get to the car after the service and what do we spot sitting happily in a cup holder? None other than B's 5lb ring of keys. A key ring that would make any janitor green with envy. A key ring so big, its surprising how forgettable it is.
While we waited for a locksmith to arrive (which took hours, by the way), we strolled around the unfamiliar neighborhood we were in. Around and around and around. We found a plant that looked like those spiky, rubber, pom pom earrings from middle school.
And a gang of penguins. Don't worry, we made sure not to make eye contact.
An aching purse shoulder and a pair of toasty sunburns later, the locksmith finally arrived. He pried the door open enough to hit the unlock button with a stick, charged us $150, and was gone.
Good day.
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