Our Grand Escape

It's Monday. Oh it's soooo-oooo Monday.

Have I ever mentioned that the girls' bedroom doorknob is backwards? It is. It makes it so they can't lock themselves in their room, even inadvertently. I can always just open it from the outside. But the error arrives in when every member of the family that is home is in that room at the same time.

It reminds me of a cooking show I saw. There is this killer sauce that was supposedly SO good. Only 2 people know the recipe. The host of the show said something to the effect of, "How's that working out for you?" The man replied, "Well, we never fly together!" That's kind of how we roll with the backwards doorknob.

And then this morning, as I was dressing the girl, Mer slammed the door shut and I just knew, immediately, in my core, that it was locked. I asked Gwenna to try to knob. No luck.

OK, what to do now... I tried to pop the lock with a bobby pin. I tried to take the door off it's hinges, knowing that route wouldn't work but having to give it a shot. So, it was out the window, again. That's right, again, as in this isn't the first time this has happened and I didn't learn from the mistake and it caused me to write a huge run-on sentence.

Knowing I'd have to go out the window again it occurred to me that all the doors were locked from the inside to keep my jailbreak children in the confines of our home. Even if I did get out the window (which, isn't that tough after the screen was shimmied off the first time) and land softly in the flowerbed under my daughters' window, I'd still be locked out. In my pajamas. Without a bra. Hair untouched since I woke up, teeth not brushed... Am I getting across the fact that I was a wreck?

So there I sat, knowing what I had to do but not wanting to do it. We could sit there and play from 9:00 until noon when Ted might come home for lunch. Three hours isn't that long, right? No, it is. So I prayed. I told the Lord I knew what the logical thing to do was but that didn't make me not hope for another solution. And no answers came and I knew I had to go out the window. I knew I'd have to pull my kids out after me. And I knew, in all my unkept glory that I would have to go next door to our neighbors' house to retreve our spare key. Because even if Ted DID come home for lunch, he doesn't have a house key right now since we lent it out to another neighbor to take care of our dog.

Out popped the screen. I made sure Gwenna could scale the dresser (what a nice thing to teach your 3 year old), placed Mer squarely on top of it, shimmed out myself, and lowered my daughters to the the ground. I looked at myself, knowing I was a mess and taking a big gulp (as pride is hard to swallow). It was then that it was brought to the forefront of my mind that I had maternity clothes stored away in our workshop. And in that box or two there would be JEANS that would be a great step up from Ted's cut off flannel pajama shorts. And what was I doing wearing THOSE anyway?!

Off to the workshop I pranced, retrieved some full belly panel favorites from my gestating days - a pair I hadn't lent to my pregnant sister, thank goodness - and I pulled them on then and there. A moment later we retrieved our key (that had to be located - and my hope was waning in those searching moments) and entered our home again. It was at that moment that I did a little happy dance, for I could not support my maternity pants, even in a size "small".

And so went the epitome of Monday morning and the lesson has been learned. Change the knob or get a key INSIDE the room. Unless I want to make my children scale a dresser again.


Angela said...

Here's to a better evening!

Amy said...

If it makes you feel any better I locked myself out of our house in in Alabama a whopping THREE TIMES before making spare keys. The third time Wes was out of Utah. So, it could be worse, right? You could be like me and make it take a really long time to learn your lesson. I almost couldn't get a hold of the landlord and almost had to call a lock smith. Yeesh.

Thank goodness for maternity pants. :)