I Stole My Own Car

The day started out like any other rainy July day. I assessed the weather and decided that making Little Squid ride his bike to camp in the rain was just cruel. And, as I was in "nice mommy" mode, I decided to drive him instead of making him take the subway.

Grabbing my keys from the hook by the door, I quickly determined that there were two sets of keys attached and, that the second set MUST be my car keys.

And so it starts ...

We get to the car and I realize that the second set of keys on my ring are the keys to our bike locks, not the car. (Just goes to show how often I've driven since school let out.)

Not really wanting to go back to the apartment, I borrowed the keys that our parking lot keeps on file, promising to return them when I returned.

An uneventful trip to camp ensues and, having dropped off Little Squid, I head over to my school's summer school site to do some work. A few blocks later, my phone rings. Good, lawabiding citizen that I am, I wait until I am stopped at a light to dig it out and answer it.

It's LoJack. Telling me that my car is being moved without my authorization.

Then I see a missed call from Mike indicating that he also got the alert.

And I just start laughing! (Then I text Mike to let him know that I am actually in the car.)

(The battery in the fob on the parking attendant's set of keys had died. We knew it was old and I was intending to replace it this week after having already replaced the batteries in our sets. I've have now replaced the battery so if LoJack calls again, we'll know the car is really being stolen. Maybe.)