You can take the blonde out of the hair, but you can't take the blonde out of the girl

I was getting ready to sink the orange ball in a corner pocket (I'm a real pool shark!) when Crishawn walked up and handed me my cell phone.

"You need to talk to Savannah," she said. "She can't find the car."

We were spending the weekend in Park City at Savannah's grandparent's condo to celebrate Crishawn's (Savannah's aunt) birthday. We had just finished the birthday feast and Savannah was heading down the canyon to take Shalamar home (her pesky pooch needed tending) and spend the night in her own bed for easier access to her 8am class at Weber in the morning.

Three things immediately went through my mind:

1-Savannah hasn't looked far enough up the road for the car

2-She accidentally parked in a towing zone and we got towed

3-Someone stole the car (but WHO would bother to steal THAT car?)

Savannah had parked on the street after driving back into the city (with her grandma) on the night of our arrival to rescue Crishawn from running out of gas. Since she had returned, we hadn't moved or even checked on our car, but we both swore that we had seen it that morning as we left to get lunch and take a drive to Sundance.

Cell phone pinned to my ear, I walked out into the crisp, fall night in my bare feet, quizzing Savannah as I went: "Did you lock the car?" "Maybe you parked it further up than you thought." "Did you park in front of a no parking sign?"

As I met her (and Shalamar and Abi schlepping all their bags and other weekend getaway detritus up and down the empty, dark, sharply inclined street) where we thought the car had last been seen, I just couldn't fathom what to do next. I felt strangely calm--and somewhat giddy.

Savannah looked at me pensively, pleading for mercy. We hiked our booties up that hill one more time.

I could not see my car.

I did not see a no parking or tow away sign.

I shrugged and sort of laughed, and kept saying, "I just don't know what to do."

There are times in life when, for no very good reason, your common sense takes leave of you. Hopefully, when that happens, someone else's common sense will charge to the front and take over. Savannah and I met Shal, Abi, and Grandpa Bob at the bottom of the hill. Grandpa Bob was the bearer of common sense.

He and I both discussed the possibilities, and reviewed mine & Savannah's trek up and down the hill. We both said over and over, "I just don't think anyone would steal that car--do you?"

We walked back to the front desk, and Bob asked for the number of the towing company that usually tows around there. As he waited on hold for either confirmation or denial of my car's towed status, I felt my mind drifting away...my auto insurance policy floated by: "full coverage" it said. Even though I knew I would only get what my car is worth, I didn't think I could end up worse off. We had another car--Savannah's. We live right by a FrontRunner station. This wasn't so bad. In fact, having the car stolen would be better in the short-run than having to come up with the money to bail my car out of towing jail.

"You don't have it?" Bob's confident voice jolted me back to reality. "Okay, thanks. I'll try them." Three towing companies later (and one call to law enforcement) yielding no results, we decided to hop into Bob's car and take another look around--this time with the advantage of headlights.

We drove up the street that just minutes ago Savannah and I had scoured. Discouragingly, our earlier assessment was confirmed: the car was not there.

For the hell of it, we decided to drive down to the next street and look there. We hadn't even rounded the corner when those brilliant, BMW headlights landed on our crappy car. Cheers rang out amid several "Hallelujahs!" and at least one "Praise Jesus!"

Savannah had just forgotten on which street she had parked the car. She felt foolish. She was relieved and embarrassed and that led to copious tears. Later, when I called Jeff and Terri to share the excitement of the evening, Jeff (amid raucous laughter) immediately knew what I needed to tell Savannah to make her feel better: "You'll have to tell her about the time you and Terri wandered around five levels of the parking garage at Crossroads Mall for an hour-and-a-half looking for the car."

How quickly the mighty/haughty/gleefully entertained do fall!