Mine was attached to my backpack. But not very well, because I kept losing them. Dad finally said no more and that I would just have to sit outside until he or my mom or one of my older siblings came home and let me in. That ended pretty quickly after one rainy October day when I was in the fourth grade. Dad had to stay at work really late due to some kind of inventory crisis. My mom didn’t know that dad wasn’t going to be home on time and she went straight to a friend’s house after work. My siblings were all at their friend’s houses. Everyone thought that somebody else would be there to let me in the house. I was stuck outside on the porch, in pouring down rain from approximately 4pm until around 8:30pm. Dad was the first one home and found me huddled under my thin little Mini Mouse windbreaker, trying to use my Barbie trapper keeper as an umbrella. I was soaked to the bone and sobbing. I ended up getting pneumonia. Like, bad. I was out of school for nearly two weeks. Dad felt terrible and everyone kept apologizing to me. After that, Dad put a hide-a-key under a planter next to the door. And for anyone wondering why I didn’t just go to one of the neighbors and have them call my parents or to wait it out or something, we had just moved into the neighborhood and we didn’t know anyone yet and I was always told not to talk to strangers. And that point in time, they were all strangers. So outside I sat, while my little shoes filled up with rain water and my homework got soaked.