As I turned the car towards the driveway, I turned to BR.

“Do you have the key?” I had given him the house keys prior to me taking him and SJ to the dentist’s office for their semi-annual appointment. It had been his responsibility to hold on to the keys. Now, he needed to produce them.

“They’re in my jacket.”
“Okay.” He was in his shirtsleeves. “Where’s your jacket?”
He looked down at his feet. No jacket. “It’s at the dentist’s office.”

There was no key at the neighbor’s house like their usually is. Instead, it was in our house after the boys had to borrow it during their last miscommunication. The garage was locked.

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