Scott and I recently celebrated our 25^th wedding anniversary with a trip to Pensacola, Florida. We also spent our honeymoon in Pensacola. It’s a lovely place. See?

The view from the balcony of our condo on our 25th wedding anniversary trip to Pensacola

We have a lot of wonderful memories from our honeymoon, our 25^th anniversary trip, and also a couple of trips we took to Pensacola with our daughter. We loved the sun, the beachcombing, the fresh seafood, bird watching, seeing dolphins playing in the surf, sightseeing—you know, the kinds of memorable times everyone can have in a beach town.

However, (you knew there was going to be a “however,” didn’t ya?) I can also share a memorable experience Scott and I had which I’m fairly certain no one else has experienced—at least, I hope not. No special reason to ask, but. . .did you ever lock your keys in your car? Really? And your extra set also? Yes? How cute.

Amateurs.

Scott and I managed to lock not one, not two, not even three, but FOUR sets of keys in our car. Yes, at the same time. All of them. Every set we possessed between the two of us was locked in the car. At the same time!

How did we manage that? Skills, baby. Skills. We had parked close to a nature walk along the beach and were putting everything we didn’t want to carry into the car truck. We were being security conscious, you know. Sigh.

I was carrying a small beach bag with some things I thought I might need. We were standing at the back of the car after we loaded all the stuff in the trunk, including two sets of car keys. Scott, knowing I had keys in my bag, took the third set out of his pocket and tossed them in, saying “Well, no need to carry those things around.” Then, he grabbed the top of the trunk lid, and started it on its downward swing.

Now, pay close attention here. I had the last remaining unlocked-up set of keys in the bag I was carrying. But when I heard Scott say, “No need to carry those around,” the fact of the fourth set of keys slipped my mind, and I thought to myself, “Why carry this bag around? Travel light.” So as the lid was coming down, and just before it shut, I swung my bag into the trunk. Where it would be secure. Cause I’m security-conscious like that.

Well. I had never seen that look on Scott’s face before, and it’s not a look a bride wants to see on the face of her newly-minted husband—a mixture of incredulity and the sudden consciousness that he may have made a terrible mistake. (I’ve seen it since then, believe me, but this was the first.) I still didn’t realize what I had done. Scott had to tell me. Oh, well. As my Uncle Randall used to say, “Well, children. It’s just like everything else.”

We made it through that first what-in-the-world-have-I-done test, and many others since then. And after 25 years, I’m happy still to say, if I must get locked out of a car with anyone, I choose Scott. Right, honey?

. . .Honey?

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