Earlier this week I couldn't find my set of keys. Bryce used his mighty investigative powers and located them on the "franklin" (our term for one of our many pot shelves, which is pretty much a dumping ground for for books, papers, etc.) But when I went to retrieve them a few hours later, they were gone. I asked Tyce and Mary Rachel if they'd seen them.....no, they hadn't. But they *did* remember Harrison pulling up a chair....maybe he took them?
We looked outside, inside, and anywhere else we could think a toddler might have been. No luck. When the twins woke up from nap I asked Harrison about the keys. He led me right to the laundry room, where the door knob had punched out a hole in the wall. He pointed at the hole and said, "They're stuck." I looked down into the blackness, and sure enough, I could see the Albertson's card sticking up on the keyring. I tried using tongs and pliers, but luckily we had skinny-armed Mary around who pulled them up with ease.
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