Long One, Get Comfy
Easily the most interesting afternoon I've had in a while. About 5 this afternoon, W and I decided via text that I'd make a quick picnic dinner, grab K from daycare and jet over to the school so they could visit for a few minutes before his first class. I had to be there by 5:30 to make it work, so I ran around throwing dinner together and trying to make myself look decent.
All right, more than decent, which may be part of the problem.
At 5:14 I ran out to the car, jumped in the driver's seat and - no keys. I never, ever take my keys out of the ignition when I'm home alone because I don't have my own housekeys anymore. (That's being remedied tomorrow.) I'd forgotten W had driven my car last, and he has freakishly uptight ways when it comes to leaving cars unlocked with the keys in them. He'd brought my key inside. I groped around under the seat, frantically searching for a spare...only to realize I don't have one. Never have. I ran to the front door, praying that maybe I hadn't given it the extra tug necessary to latch it securely. I had. No dice. Damn my sudden need for security measures!
The back door wasn't any better, it was actually quite the cocktease. The knob turned, but the bolt was still firm, despite my attempts to will it out of place. Wasn't sure what time it was then, but W pays by the minute for every minute K is at daycare past 5:30. The only window I had a chance of getting in through was our bedroom, and I was elated when I was able to jiggle not one, but both screens out from the back. (Now that I think of it, we're not very safe here.)
Thank god I'd left my laptop where I had, because I pulled it's cord to bring it to me, reached in through the slightly open window and sent a text message to W, "You DID bring my keys inside last night?" A moment later I had the affirmative, with, "Sorry bout that. Why?" "Just wanted to know before I tried to break in."
I hauled a mildewy box out of the shed and did a test jump on it to see if it would hold. "Mehhh... probably," was the verdict, and I planned my ascent. First I removed the glass from the window (wow. Really not safe here,) then pushed the matress away from the bed. I was glad no one else was home, because it was noisy as hell and I said a few words I wouldn't be proud of. I very slowly clambered in the window, over the spiky ledge, and onto the bed. As I pulled my foot in, my computer beeped with another text message from W: "Did you try the back door?"
He's brilliant. I'm brilliant, we're all smart here.
I got K two minutes late and made it to McIntosh with about five minutes left to visit. I have two huuuge bruises on my shins from kneeling very awkwardly on the sharp metal sill. They look like someone tried to take my knees out with a baseball bat. But I survived, clothing and all intact with a little bonus dog poo on my right sneaker. I'm not washing it off - it's the smell of success.
All right, more than decent, which may be part of the problem.
At 5:14 I ran out to the car, jumped in the driver's seat and - no keys. I never, ever take my keys out of the ignition when I'm home alone because I don't have my own housekeys anymore. (That's being remedied tomorrow.) I'd forgotten W had driven my car last, and he has freakishly uptight ways when it comes to leaving cars unlocked with the keys in them. He'd brought my key inside. I groped around under the seat, frantically searching for a spare...only to realize I don't have one. Never have. I ran to the front door, praying that maybe I hadn't given it the extra tug necessary to latch it securely. I had. No dice. Damn my sudden need for security measures!
The back door wasn't any better, it was actually quite the cocktease. The knob turned, but the bolt was still firm, despite my attempts to will it out of place. Wasn't sure what time it was then, but W pays by the minute for every minute K is at daycare past 5:30. The only window I had a chance of getting in through was our bedroom, and I was elated when I was able to jiggle not one, but both screens out from the back. (Now that I think of it, we're not very safe here.)
Thank god I'd left my laptop where I had, because I pulled it's cord to bring it to me, reached in through the slightly open window and sent a text message to W, "You DID bring my keys inside last night?" A moment later I had the affirmative, with, "Sorry bout that. Why?" "Just wanted to know before I tried to break in."
I hauled a mildewy box out of the shed and did a test jump on it to see if it would hold. "Mehhh... probably," was the verdict, and I planned my ascent. First I removed the glass from the window (wow. Really not safe here,) then pushed the matress away from the bed. I was glad no one else was home, because it was noisy as hell and I said a few words I wouldn't be proud of. I very slowly clambered in the window, over the spiky ledge, and onto the bed. As I pulled my foot in, my computer beeped with another text message from W: "Did you try the back door?"
He's brilliant. I'm brilliant, we're all smart here.
I got K two minutes late and made it to McIntosh with about five minutes left to visit. I have two huuuge bruises on my shins from kneeling very awkwardly on the sharp metal sill. They look like someone tried to take my knees out with a baseball bat. But I survived, clothing and all intact with a little bonus dog poo on my right sneaker. I'm not washing it off - it's the smell of success.
posted by Popcorn Charlie at 8:39 PM
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