The Golden Years...

Several days ago as I left a meeting I desperately gave myself a personal search. I was looking for my keys.
They were not in my pockets. A quick search in the meeting room revealed nothing.
Suddenly, I realised that I must have left them in the car. Frantically, I headed for the car park.
My missus has reprimanded me many times for leaving the keys in the ignition.
My theory is the ignition is the best place not to lose them. Her theory is that the car will be nicked.
As I scanned the car park I came to a terrifying conclusion! Her theory was right. The car park was empty.
I immediately called the police. I gave them my location, confessed that I had left my keys in the car, and that it had been stolen.
Then I made the most difficult call of all.
"Hello My Love", I stammered; I always call her "My Love" in times like these. "I left my keys in the car and it has been stolen."
There was a period of silence. I thought the call had disconnected, but then I heard her voice. She barked,

 "I dropped you off!"
Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, "Well, come and get me."
She retorted, "I will, as soon as I convince this copper that I have not stolen your bloody car."
This is what they call, "the Golden Years!"