My afternoon turned into a saga rather quickly, but I'll start at the beginning. It's been a beautiful day and I had a good conversation with my hubby while I was driving from work to Dominic's school (yes, I do talk on the phone when I'm driving, deal with it). I pulled up to Dom's school and went it, picking up my raffle prize on my way.
Dominic's class had just gone outside and he was gleefully zipping around on a tricycle, so I let him play for a while, in no hurry to get home. After about 10 minutes I rounded him up to go home and headed out. I realized, however, that my car keys were not in my pocket, so I went back to check Dom's locker where I frequently leave them. Nope, no keys there, but I had managed to forget the raffle prize, so I picked up. Next thought: maybe I left them at the front desk when I went to pick up the prize? Nope, no keys there either. Dreading what I might find, I took Dominic outside and peered in the window of the van. Yup, there in the cup holder were my keys, mocking me, right next to my phone and purse.
I went back inside to let the front desk know that I would most definitely be violating the 10 minute parking rule while I ran home to break into my home for my spare set of keys. Yvette was kind enough to suggest that Dominic stay at school while I carried out my mission, and I'm glad she did, because that hadn't even occurred to me. With Dominic safely back in his teacher's care, I set off through the woods to get home. Thankfully it's only about a 10 minute walk at a brisk pace.
Here's where the plot thickens. You would think that I would have a house key hidden outside somewhere for these occasions, but you'd be wrong. You'd think I'd at least give a trusted neighbor a spare key, but you'd be wrong. You'd think that maybe, just maybe with all my forgetfulness lately, I would have forgotten to latch a ground level window or maybe even have left the walk-out basement unbarred, but you'd be wrong. After several pathetic attempts to open the living room windows, I realize that would not be my point of entry. In fact, the only windows in the house that I knew were not currently latched were the windows in the kitchen, a full story up above the walkout basement.
Oh for ladder! I was pleased to see a car parked in my next-door neighbors spot, for I knew they have a 30 ft. ladder in their back yard and I thought maybe someone would help me. No go, nobody answered the door. Just then, a neighbor I usually avoid due to his propensity to be quite.. loquacious (and from me that is saying something) pulled up. I seriously considered busting a window, but I decided to just ask. Thankfully a ladder was available! It only took him 10 minutes to unearth from somewhere in the basement, but I could not have been more grateful. I had also seriously consider climbing the fence of my neighbors and helping myself to their ladder, I just couldn't figure out how I was going to manage it on my own, and whether they would forgive me if I destroyed their windows/fence/yard by dropping it.
Once I had the ladder, it took me less than a minute to pop out the screen, lift the window and climb through. One minute after that I was back on the trail in jeans and a t-shirt (so much more appropriate than the work clothes I had been wearing) and so endeth the drama. Dominic and I made home safely after I was berated by him for my thoughtlessness. We even managed to squeeze in a half-hour at the playground before dinner and cookie making. The cookies served the dual purpose of comforting my fried nerves and acting as token of thanks to a helpful neighbor.
If you got to the end of this, good for you. This is probably WAY more details that anyone wanted to know, but sometimes I just have to share.