There’s a Key WHERE?

My life has been pretty dull this past month. Not that things haven’t been going on, but nothing really exciting or blog worthy in my opinion (yard work and writer’s block are just not appropriate topics).

But all that changed this past weekend. My life is starting to get a little jazzier after my down time and it all started with me having to break into my own house.

My husband was in Jacksonville on business and I decided to go down there to spend some time with him (I love that he gets sent to places with beaches). I had my things packed and ready to go all I needed to do was feed the pets. I fed our indoor cat, Frank and went outside to feed our kitten, Tina and our dog, Lil. Our back door is one of those that you can’t tell whether it’s locked or not by turning it. You have to reach in and twist the inside knob to know before you shut it. Guess who didn’t check before closing it?

I panicked the minute I realized what I had done. My husband was too far to call for help and even if I he had been close enough, I had left my cellphone inside. I thought about my sister-in-law and the fact she had a spare key, but once again I didn’t have my phone nor her number memorized even if I could get a neighbor to call. I ran to the front yard and tried the front door. Of course it was locked and Frank stared at me from the side window, meowing at me perceptively as if he knew what I had gotten myself into. Too bad he couldn’t be trained to open doors.

Then for some reason I remembered that a couple of weeks earlier I had cracked open our bedroom window to listen to the symphony of frogs that serenade us every night. I was pretty sure it was still cracked or at the very least unlocked.

I ran back to the back yard and pulled an iron patio chair over to the window. Our house is only one floor, but the bottom of our windows were just above my head. I stepped on the chair and stared at the screen which posed a problem. How do I remove it without tearing it?

I started pulling at the screen’s frame, but it was obvious that it wasn’t meant to come out this way. After a few more careful tugs I gave up, my face already dripping sweat from the sticky humidity. I found a garden spade and stuck it in the space between the screen and window and pulled down. The screen frame bent and I tried to pull it, but it still wouldn’t budge. At least it gave me space to pull it up to get to the window. Thankfully the window slid up and the cool air from inside blew across my face.

But there was a problem. Even standing in the chair, I wasn’t able to climb into the window. I found the container we stored the dog food in and put it into the chair. I knew it wasn’t all that stable, especially since the ground was so wet, but I didn’t have a choice. I climbed on top of the container in the chair and climbed into the window.

Just like a typical comedy movie, as I put my weight on the top of the container the chair fell over, leaving my body suspended halfway in the window. My feet were dangling outside, but I was unable to touch the bedroom floor with my hands.

If any of you have ever tried to climb in a window, you know the window ledge isn’t exactly comfortable to lay on and well frankly it hurt like Hades. Without any help from the chair I had to somehow figure out how to fall back out the window or get enough leverage to fall into the bedroom. I decided I wasn’t going to give up that easily and eventually tilted my balance forward enough that I could crawl into the room.

Finally, I fell onto the bedroom floor, my stomach already hurting and scratches all over my arms. I just laid there for a minute, thankful I had gotten in. I looked up to see Frank staring at me like I’d lost my mind and couldn’t help but laugh.

Once I could get up from the floor I found my phone and dialed my husband and told him what had happened. His response? “You know there’s a key hidden out there right?I’ve told you a million times.”

WHAT? This was the first I was hearing of it, and I have the memory of elephant. If he had ever told me about it, then I would remember I told him. He went on to describe when he had showed me where the key was hidden and it all came tumbling back.

So I could have gotten the key and walked back in? Normally, this would’ve aggravated and annoyed me, but for some odd reason it made the whole thing even funnier.

A week later I still have some scratches and bruises, but at least I have a new funny story to tell about myself. And I have to admit that little incident was the beginning of a great weekend.

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