Mr. Mischief Strikes Again

No sooner do I sit down, trying to decide what to blog about, then I receive this email:

Michelle,

I need a favor - would you mind asking Ethan and Zach if they know where the keys to my front glass door might be? I noticed the other day they were gone and I'm a bit creeped out not knowing who took them out of the lock. I usually keep the door open so our dog can see out the front but I lock the door when I'm here alone.

I'm not sure when they disappeared so I'm asking everyone who's been here in the past week.

It was nice having you and your family over.

Thanks,
Martha

I knew immediately who to ask.

M- Ethan, do you remember the family we ate with after church last week.

E- No.

M- They have the boys and the dog and the fun costumes.

E- Oh yeah.

M- Do you remember their glass front door and some keys? The keys are missing. Do you know where they might be?

E - Oh yeah. I buried them.

M- You buried them! Where?

E - In the dirt, and I put a letter on top of them, but not an "X". But if it's rained I'm sure it's washed away.

M- Was it the side or front of the house?

After this, the exact spot kept varying and I am not sure exactly where they are buried. I immediately called Martha to share the news and thank goodness she just laughed and laughed and was glad that they were just buried and that no one had taken them. She said she would send her boys out to dig for them later and I told her if they couldn't find them we would stop by on Friday when we are in town and have Ethan show us.

I told her she was actually lucky he only buried them in dirt because during the summer he buried my sister's house keys in a dirt mound full of cat poo.

So much for a little kindness! We probably won't be invited back to their house for lunch.