A few years ago a colleague drove me back to the restaurant of works do the following day to pick up my car; it wasn’t until I went to unlock it that I realised my keys were still on my desk at work.
I have been to a show at a theatre on more than one occasion without remembering to take the tickets.
A long time ago I took my clarinet case to school without the clarinet inside; didn’t notice it was unusually light either! When I got to rehearsal and discovered it wasn’t there I owned up straight away, because, well, why wouldn’t I? Band conductor made me sing my part into a microphone. It was totally humiliating, but I think it was pure luck that it didn’t happen again because I do that sort of thing all the time.
Pick up daughter from school, return pants to store for a refund, what’s so hard about that? Then I get home to “Did you take those pants back?” and think ‘bloody hell not again’
I wouldn’t mind, the add things I do don’t particularly bother me, other than making me feel stupid, but they do bother my wife, particularly if there are repercussions for her. I am generally very accepting if I do something daft and have to deal with the consequences myself, but most of the time it’s the rest of the family that do.
The hardest part of it all is being accused of not caring enough, as if my lack of ability to remember (or indeed notice) something important is a willful disregard of its importance and/or proverbial V sign to it.