It happens almost every week. I get ready to leave the house, put on my shoes, grab my bag, and walk out the door—then I remember. “Oh no, my keys!” I run back and check the kitchen, the living room, or sometimes even the bathroom. They’re never in the same place. My mom laughs and says, “You should keep them in one spot.” I know she’s right, but I always forget. Once, I locked myself out and had to wait for hours in the hallway until someone came home. It was hot, and I didn’t even have my phone. That day, I promised to be more careful. I even made a small key hanger next to the door. But still, I forget. It’s funny and frustrating. I’m trying to be better. I guess some routines take time to build. Forgetting my keys has become part of my daily story. And now, every time I leave the house, I say to myself, “Keys, phone, wallet… go!”