In my defense, this doesn't happen often and no children were harmed in the making of this Monday WTH (What the Heck).
Also, I do realize how blessed I truely am in having such lovely neighbors who would brave having someone they only recently met see them in their pajamas on the first day of their vacation.
Yesterday, I used my keys to start the minivan. I was not the one driving, my husband was. But I turned on the car out of impatience because it was seriously like 106 degrees outside, so the inside was like 400! The air conditioner in my van is wonderful and works so well that sometime I have to turn it off so I can defrost the kids to get them out. My husband drove us home after the movie and did not put my keys where I put them. I always (okay, usually) use the clip on my keys to latch them onto my purse so I don't lose them.
I was notorious in college for never knowing where my keys were. My husband knows this about me; it's not something new.
He put my keys on the dining room table. I'm sure you can see where this is heading.
This morning, I gathered our children and ushered them out the door carrying the baby with Josie trailing behind me. I asked her to close the front door but to make sure it was locked.
"Is it locked?"
"I don't know, it's sorta like this" - makes hand gesture to show up & down.
"Then it's not locked, you need to turn it."
"Okay, mom, it's locked."
Then we got in the van and I grabbed the loop of my purse to get my keys...
NO KEYS! Not to the van, the house, nothing. I think fast but there are no ways (that won't cause damage to my beautiful house) to break into my house to get the keys.
(Deep breath) Fine, I'll just call Daddy...
Blink.....blink.....open car door and walk in a circle around the van...get back in van. (I seriously have no idea what good I thought that would do)
"Okay, everyone wait here while I go to the neighbor's house to borrow their phone to call Daddy."
So I went to my neighbor's house and rang the doorbell. After an eternity, I started to walk away but heard the latch on the door being moved so I jumped back in front of the door. My gentleman neighbor poked his head from around the door and I very sheepishly told him about my misadventure and could I please use his phone to call my husband. He asked me to hold on just a moment and closed the door. His wife then open the door and invited me in while she tried to figure out how to unlock her new blackberry so I could call Daddy. She was in a housecoat and her husband was coming down the hall buttoning his shorts. Eventually we had to use her husband's phone and I called Daddy hoping he would answer even if he didn't recognize the number.
"Hi, honey. It's me. Um, I'm locked out of the house and can't start the car."
"They're on the table."
"Uh-huh. Remember you were using my keys..."
"I'll be there in five minutes."
"Thanks, honey. I love you."
My lovely neighbors offered me a ride, which I declined because I needed to get the kids off to their various daycares. So then they offered to let me drive one of their cars. I didn't think people like this still existed! Thank God I live next to such fine people. I thanked them very much and told them my husband would be here soon and I had to get back to the kids.
I believe I've learned a few things today:
never be so impatient for the AC as to use my keys to turn on the car when I am not the one driving.
never assume the keys are where they are supposed to be
to find a place to hide an extra key
and to thank God again for such amazing neighbors!
Monday, June 27, 2011
In the upstairs hall above the bathroom door. I can honestly say it took me about ten minutes to kill it. Ten seconds to whack it with the fly swatter, two seconds to realize that didn’t work, twenty seconds trying to squish it in half using the edge of the fly swatter as it frantically tried to sting the shiny purple plastic, five seconds to release it in the hopes that it would stick to the fly swatter, five seconds watching it fall to the floor still alive and intact while screaming “IT FELL, IT FELL, IT FELL”, three seconds to jump off the kitchen stool and stomp it to near oblivion with my foot safely caressed in your ugly boots. I believe fifteen seconds were spent on moving the boxes Josie put in the hall, delaying the inevitable by requesting the fly swatter followed by asking for the kitchen stool and tucking in the laces on the boots. The other nine minutes consisted of me trying (successfully until the scream) to maintain my composure, finding my courage to even GO up the stairs, while inside there was another version of myself running around in a panic screaming, “OHMYGODTHERE’SASCORPIONUPSTAIRSANDMYKIDSNEEDMETOKILLIT!” followed by a fleeting thought that perhaps I could call you to come kill the freaking scorpion while looking at the scorpion wishing it didn’t exist.
~The e-mail to my husband to answer his question.
~The e-mail to my husband to answer his question.