Senior moments

Not long ago I had to trade vehicles with my husband. I don’t remember why, he must have needed a pickup for something, so I took his car. Not a big problem, until I went to the grocery store. Oblivious to the nightmare I was about to find myself in, I happily pushed my cart up and down the aisles, filling it full of bargains and looking forward to all the wonderful meals I was going to create with them. I proceeded to the checkout and went to the parking lot to find my pickup. I remembered which line I had parked in, but there was not a single pickup to be found. “Hmmmm,” I muttered. “I must not have parked in that area after all.” I scanned the other rows for the pickup and continued pushing the cart full of groceries back and forth, from one end of the lot to the other and up and down each row of cars for what may have been a good 10 minutes. Certain that my pickup had been stolen, I was about to go back into the store (I don’t have a cell phone - it will be clear to you why when you get to the end of this) and call 9-1-1 to report a stolen vehicle, when I spotted a familiar looking red car in the third row. “Why, that looks just like Randy’s car!” I thought to myself, “What’s he doing here?” Only then did I remember that we had switched vehicles that day.
This same thing happened to me last week at Wal-Mart. I have the privilege of using a company pickup when I go on errands to town (the TST office is 16 miles from town). This particular day, the errands included a stop at Wal-Mart. Again; I went in, did my shopping and confidently strode out – and stumbled around in the parking lot looking for my pickup – I think this time it might only have been 5 minutes – until I remembered I needed to be looking for the RED TST pickup instead of my white one.
How would I ever manage to keep track of something as small as a cell phone when I can so easily misplace entire automobiles?