Today, I packed up my kids to drive to Amy's house. I packed up our lunches; I packed up my purse. I moved Tate's car seat so he could sit next to his sister. I checked all the downstairs windows and doors to be sure they were shut and locked. I climbed in the car and went to start it up and realized my keys were not in the ignition. ACK! Thinking they were in my purse, I dug through that. I checked the floor and the passenger seat. No keys. What can I do; I'm locked out!
I shamefully tried Mike's mobile phone (thankfully I had mine in my purse), voicemail.
I shamefully tried Mike's work phone, voicemail.
I started to get a little panicky and wondered if I should call Amy.
I looked up and saw the open window in Ellerie's room...right over the garage.
Maybe my neighbor had a ladder.
She did and she kindly helped me carry it across the street and helped me break into my own house. The last time I locked myself out (Yes, it's happened before. Don't laugh), I was thoughtful (or thoughtless, depending) enough to have left a ground floor window unlocked. So, while I may have looked like a doofus with my bum hanging out my front bedroom window as I tried to climb in, I did not have to confess my behavior to anyone else. This time, although slightly embarrassed at my silliness being exposed, I was feeling rather clever at having solved my troubles without Mike needing to leave work. "Won't he be impressed, " I thought. I know I was. Only, a little problem came up. I was inside the house, but no keys. I always hang them on the same little peg right inside the door. I knew they had to be SOMEWHERE. And, as it turns out, they WERE somewhere.
In the car.
THE. WHOLE. TIME.
Right down next to that car seat I had moved.
So I've got my keys, but my mind and my dignity?