Scared the bleep out of myself last week. Just running a couple of errands including a trip to the library for a drop-off and a pick-up. At this time of year I usually wear a sweatshirt for errands, leaving the coat at home. After all, just going from house to car, car to library, etc. A creature of habit, I normally lock the car then put the keys in the pocket of my sweatshirt.
When I came out of the library I reached into my pocket and… no keys. I dug down in the pocket then re-traced my steps, thinking that maybe I set them down on the shelf when I was pulling out my holds. Nope. Walked back outside to the drop-off box to see if I dropped them there. Nope. Stood next to my car for a few minutes (of course, this was a day it was drizzling/sleeting a bit) trying to visualize if I’d had my keys in my hand when I put the book through the drop-off slot. I didn’t think so. I headed back into the library to see if maybe in the short time I’d been inside, someone had found the keys and turned them into a librarian. At least I had my phone and YA was working at home that day so she could have brought me the spare key, but I was already starting to feel the loss of the keychain which my father gave me decades ago.
As I was about to open the library door, my hand brushed against my pant leg. The keys were in the pocket of my sweatpants! It’s still a little unbelievable to me. I only have two pairs of sweatpants that even have pockets so I never think about having pockets. I can’t imagine WHY I put the keys in the pants’ pocket instead of the sweatshirt. But I was unbelievably relieved to find them, not have to embarrass myself in front of the library staff and especially not in front of YA!
Tell me about a time you’ve scared the bejeepers out of yourself?

