So, yeah, I locked myself out of the house yesterday.
Ok, so picture it.
My friend and I had just had a day of battling the aisles of Walmart, (Why did I bother going on the first of the month?!?), I was beginning the process of taking the half a ton of groceries it takes to feed my crew into the house when ~gasp~, I realized that I did not have my keys
There I was, laughing so hard and gasping that I couldn’t even get it out with my friend having a half bemused, half concerned that I was loosing my mind look on her face and a handful of my grocery bags in her hands.
After I managed to get myself togther long enough to stumble out the phrase, “I don’t have my keys. I’m locked out”, she started my gigglefest back up with a few guffaws of her own.
Finally, we pulled ourselves together enough to come up with a plan.
BabyGirl always has her keys.
Every since that time that I was a wee bit late getting home but her bladder was right on time with its after school demands.
So, off my trundled to get the keys for BabyGirl at school.
Did I mention how very embarrassing it to have to explain to the staff of a middle school that you are locked out of your own home.
Then, of course, I had to sit there twiddling my thumbs for about 15 minutes until BabyGirl saunters on into the school office.
The look on her face was all “why are you in my territory in the middle of the day”until I asked her if she had her keys.
“Yes, of course,” she says, “why?”
“Because I’ve locked myself out the house,”I mumbled and waited for it…
And I didn’t have to wait long because seconds later her mouth curved and out came a snicker.
At her own Mommy.
Eventually and most reluctantly, she handed over her precious keys and I trundled on home.
The rest of my day was less eventful.