My husband always says I’m a very lucky person. Not just because I married him (pause for chuckle), but when things go awry for me, they somehow always work out in the end. Of course, that’s not completely true, but it happens often enough that I think he might be right. Now, I’m not talking about luck like privilege. I know I was born with many privileges that have allowed things to go a certain way in my life. I’m talking about when I leave my purse in an auditorium and on my walk back to go look for it I find it in a bush with all my credit cards and ID in it and only the few dollars I ever carry are missing. Or when I realize that I must’ve dropped my wallet and as I’m getting ready to go look for it, someone shows up at the door with my wallet in hand. That kind of luck.

“Um…it turns out I don’t have my keys,” I tell my husband over the phone. It’s 7:30 am on a Monday morning. He’s already dashed off to work and I’m getting ready to leave myself. I’m disturbed, but calm because I know I have a spare car key and if I can’t find a spare key to the house there are at least two different people in the neighborhood who do. Also, I’m a very lucky person.

“Oh my god, and you don’t have a key to you car!” My husband assumes the worst because, well, he’s not lucky. I imagine him in his office with his hand to his head, anxious, and trying to solve the problem.

“No, I have a key to the car; I can get to work,” I assure him.

“Okay, I’ll look for your keys when the students get into class.” Spoiler alert: he did not in fact go look for the keys.

I head to school myself and soon forget about the keys. At lunch, when I have a moment to breathe, I remember and realize that I’ve never heard from my husband. He must be busy, I’ll call him later, I think.

It’s now 5:00 pm and I still haven’t heard. Now I’m wondering if I should call my in-laws. Did I leave my keys in Carmel? (It’s a 5 1/2 hour drive from our house.) Maybe my luck has run out since I found my husband’s ring that I put away for “safekeeping” on Sunday.

Just as I was about to pick up my phone to check in with my father-in-law, I hear my husband walk in the door. He holds up my keys. “You are really lucky,” he tells me as he hands them over.

“Oh phew!” I mean I knew they would show up, but still.

“Hey, tomorrow I’m going to pick up my iPad at the post office. Your parents Fedexed it and it’s supposed to be here by 10:30 in the morning.” I tell my husband as he puts away his work gear. The lucky streak continues.

But just in case, I ordered an AirTag to put on my keys.