Losing your laundry key may seem mundane, but it provided Caleb Monteiro a valuable lesson in responsibility.
My family is not a group of detectives, but we constantly find ourselves in the mystery of the lost laundry key.
It was late in the afternoon. I was running out of clean clothes to wear in my arsenal, so I was desperate. I gathered what seemed to be a mountain of laundry in my detergent. I went for the laundry key. It was gone.
I began to panic. I dropped my basket and started to look around the table, nowhere to be seen. So I started to look in past pockets. Gone. I started to flip cushions, take drawers apart, open cabinets. My house started to look like a crime scene. I looked and look, but the key was nowhere to be seen.
Really, how can a little brass key just disappear like this? It was like it teleported to another dimension. After tearing apart my house bit by bit, I gave up. I took laundry downstairs, praying to God someone was in the laundromat so that I can get in. As I stepped in the doorway, I saw someone’s head move as I knocked and they came to the door. I thanked the heavens for my miracle.