Thursday, July 6, 2017

a day in the life

This morning at approximately 11:30, I was wandering aimlessly about my son's room. I honestly can't tell you what i was doing because I was so *bleeping* tired. (Charlotte had woken up at 5am. I'm not much of a morning person as it is, but also I was really smart and decided to stay up until 1 am last night looking at memes because I am a productive human being who does responsible adult things with my time. But also I found some hilarious memes, so idk. Maybe this was all worth it?)

So there I was, doing (?????) in my kids room, only semi-conscious, and Jameson walks in. He closes the door and says, "haha! Mom, now you and me are locked in the room! And Charlie is NOT!"

(I would like to take this moment to come clean that yes, the door to my children's room locks from the outside. Judge me a hundred times and then go away because nobody likes a judgemental mom-shamer and this blog is an exclusively  judgement free zone. Good day. I SAID GOOD DAY.)

Back to what my son said.

"haha! Mom, now you and me are locked in the room! And Charlie is NOT!"

The realization didn't hit me immediately.
"Cool, bud."

I picked up a piece of garbage and went to open the door and go about my day.

My hand grasped the doorknob, and I began to twist. The handle didn't budge.

The thoughts that scrolled through my mind went a little something like this:

"Lol." -my unconscious brain not fully grasping what has happened.
"Wait. This is locked...???"
"The door is locked. UGH. JAMESON."
"At least I'm not in here by myself this time."
*Charlotte knocks on the door.*
"DAMNIT! DAMNIT DAMNIT JAMESON DAMNIT!!!!!" -real life me, swearing in front of both of my children because I am an A+++ parent.

I turned and looked at Jamey. "WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?!! you KNOW we don't lock the doors!" (As you may have picked up on, this isnt the first locked door incident we have had)

"It's funny, mom." Jameson said to me matter-of-factly.

"No, it's not! Charlie is out there all by herself and I can't get out!! She doesnt know how to unlock a door!!"

I sat there, mostly composed, and tried to think of a way out of this mess.

I can climb through the window, pop out the screen and get in through the front door. Yes!

...no. I locked the handle AND the deadbolt because apparently I think I live in the ghetto and need that extra protection. DAMNIT. Ok. Next option... I can break a window. LOL. Next... who has a spare key? Yes! Spare key. 

I called my dad. No answer.

"Ok. Hmm, well... this is unfortunate."

I called my husband.

"Hey, so um, I just need you to help me keep my cool and walk me through this for a second."

"...what happened?"

"So, Jameson and I are locked in his room. And Charlotte is not. HOW DO I GET OUT."

We contemplated every option of escape. I was instructed to look for anything small enough to poke into the hole to unlock the door, or something flat enough and strong enough that I could take the hinges off and remove the door completely. (thinking about that now, I'm still not 100% sure that plan would have worked. but thats not the point)

I soon realized my phone battery had 6% left, which is about 3 minutes of use. I was scrambling around the room searching for anything to help me. I unplugged the kids' nightlight and started using one of the prongs as a makeshift flathead screwdriver. It got me nowhere. I started rattling the handle and shouting, "JUST STOP BEING LOCKED AND LET ME OUT OF HERE!!" It seemed completely rational at the time. Also, about this time my daughter started crying.

My husband called me back.

"hey, are you out?"

"NO, GET OUT OF MY FACE, OKAY?! I REALIZE I'M A HELPLESS WRETCH NOW LEAVE ME THE #@%&$ ALONE SO MY PHONE DOESN'T DIE BEFORE I CAN FIND HELP." (to be fair, I am pretty sure I was a lot nicer than that but those were the words I was holding back)

I was trying to think of anyone I knew who could break down a door, who also wouldn't be at work or home with children who probably shouldn't see their parent break down a door.

I called my husband. "I'm going to die in here."

"You're not going to die. Just calm down, think outside the box. What can you use?"

"My dad!! I can try calling him again to see if he can come unlock the front door!"

"That's not thinking outside the box."
"Umm, oh! There's a broken piece of a plastic box that I can try to wedge in between the door and the lock like a credit card!"

It should be known that I have zero street cred when it comes to B&E. So it should be no surprise that although my husband talked me through it, the piece of broken plastic just left me swearing, my phone battery at 3%, and the door still locked. 

"Is there a neighbor who can run a hammer and flathead screwdriver over to you?" (we were back to the hinges idea)

"..Yes!! My phone is dying! BYE!"

I called my cute neighbor Kelsi. 

"Are you home?!"

She was. I explained the situation and asked her to meet me at my window.

A few minutes later I heard panting.

"ALLIE! I ran here as fast as I could."

Normally, I would have been embarrassed at her seeing me in the state I was in. I had fallen asleep with my hair wet the night before (if you are a girl you know this is a mistake), and also had yet to change out of my pajamas for the day, or put on a bra, or even try to look remotely like a human being who had just smidgen of her life put together. But I was 100% pure hot mess. Like, actually hot. I was sweating from all of the stress, pacing, and hard labor of not unlocking this stupid, stupid door. I digress.

Kelsi arrived, and instead of being worried about her seeing me in the awful state I was in, I practically praised the heavens that she got there so fast. In her own words, "You were literally trapped and I climbed through the window with the-night-before mascara rubbed all around my eyes and out of breath from running holding tools I've never even used before."

Guys, get a neighbor like her. She's the best.

Along with the tools she had never used before (really, Kelsi? A hammer? A flathead screwdriver? WHO ARE YOU) she also brought one of those tiny pin-keys that are meant for this kind of situation. You know the ones, usually left on the top of the door frame so that should you ever be in a predicament where your three year old locks you in a room, you don't have to consider how expensive it would be to replace your teeth after you're done gnawing through the door. 

She gave it to me and I fumbled for a few minutes. 

Nobody ever hire me to commit a crime that requires me to break into anywhere because we will get caught and go to jail.

I passed the key over to Kelsi, and after a minute or so of finagling, the handle turned. It was the sweetest sight I ever did see.

"FREEDOM!!!" -Kelsi (lol, guys- she was so happy for me. seriously GET A COOL NEIGHBOR. they make these stories even better.)

And that is how the story ends. Kelsi went home a hero, and I hugged my children like we had survived being trapped in a dungeon with ravenous serial-killer cannibals. And we all lived to see the light of another day. 

Another day in the life. I need to blog more.

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