On Saturday night, I was in charge of a luau at the church. A luau with 100+ attendees and a gazillion errands to run. We also had a Grand Cherokee to get ready to sell and car seats to install in the new vehicle. So basically, we were swamped.
First thing in the morning, we drove to the fire station for the installation. Even though I’d talked to a snippy firefighter earlier (one I had likely woken up; what, not everyone is up at dawn?), they were out on a call when we arrived (because they need to fight fires or something?)
Eventually they showed up and Jamie left me to get the Grand Cherokee detailed. From then on, everything was going smoothly. Well, except for when lewd Haddie asked to see the fireman’s hose.
Until we drove home, only to discover that we were locked out. On the day I had a gazillion things to do. Y’see, Jamie had the garage-door remote in the Jeep and I had yet to switch my keys over. Oh, and he forgot his cell phone.
And so I did what all good wives do in a crisis such as this: went to Super Target and bought things I didn’t need. That took an hour. On the third hour of waiting, I decided he just wasn’t coming home and called she-who-has-the-only-spare key: my mother-in-law. Mall rat that she is, she was otherwise engaged on the far side of town but graciously made her way back.
In the meantime, Haddie, Bode and I played sporadically on the porch and when it got too nippy, we’d head back to the car (thereby destroying any evidence that it was new and clean merely 48 hours prior). Haddie would also periodically announce,
“Hey, I’ve got an idea!”
“What?”
“Let’s go inside.”
Because we were playing House Lockout for hours just for fun.
And then she’d laugh raucously at her little joke as a reminder I have birthed Mini-Me with the same insipid sense of humor.
Eventually, my mother-in-law finally showed up, saving me from myself. And of course, so did Jamie the moment we walked in and we were happily reunited. Well, with a few rants and raves as welcome.
The End.
There is an addendum to this story. Several hours later, I noticed the backdoor was unlocked. That same backdoor that has been locked the entire winter. I haltingly queried Jamie,
“Err, please tell me you’ve been outside in the last few hours.”
“Naw, not since I let Haddie outside to play early this morning.”
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 