Marching On

     Fio's gotta cut down on the number of car keys she's carrying.  Con su lista en su mano, she drove off  to H-E-B in Husband's car (the Queen Mary) picked up a few items like milk, eggs, and bread plus, of course, a few extras, like Pinwheels and Spanish peanuts. All went well until she got back to the  car.
     She couldn't unlock the door.
     Puzzled, Fio rechecked to be sure she hadn't tried to hijack someone else's silver car, then sudenly realized she'd been trying to unlock Husband's Mercedes with her Miata keys. Whew! What a relief. All she had to do now was fish the right keys out of her purse, and she'd be home in no time.
     But the Mercedes key didn't work either.
     Angry, Fio was determined to get that door open, no matter how long it took. After trying several combinations of choices offered by the keys, she finally got the driver's side door to open. and, using gymnastic contrortions she didn't know she possessed, was able to toss all her groceries--including three one-gallon milk bottles--into the back seat of the car.
     As she got herself into the car, Fio saw why the key wouldn't work. She'd used one set of keys to drive to the store, left it in the ignition, and locked the door, and then, coming out if the store, she'd used another set of keys to open the door.
     Got all that?
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Maybe the day was destined to be frustrating for everyone. Fiorella got home to discover that the modem had gone out and that Elder Son was going crazy trying to get in touch with our internet provider, figuring out how his father had everything set up, and replacing the router
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On the other hand, Fiorella began to take down the tinsel garlands along the front of the property in the morning, was able to pick up a few palabras of a rapid-fire conversation en el espanol at the surpermarket in the afternoon, and made una fuego en la chimenea in the evening.




























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