I spent a few hours outside this morning.
Now, don’t worry that I’m turning all outdoorsy. It wasn’t by choice.
See, our new house has these fancy-schmancy door knobs that you can open from the inside, even when they’re locked on the outside. You know where this is going?
The kids were driving me crazy with all of their summer vacation fun (i.e. fighting) so I suggested that, since we now have a fabulous backyard, maybe they should actually go play in it.
Since my children have not had a backyard in 2 years, it seems they’ve forgotten how to play outside. I thought it was instinctual, but no. They needed me to find clothes for them to wear, rummage through boxes for outdoor appropriate toys, and provide popsicles to make the event possible.
Once everyone was shooed outside, I followed to clean up any dog poo I could find (yay me!). Because you know if it’s out there, they will step in it. I did this in my PJ’s and only my PJ’s.
About the time I got distracted by pulling some weeds, Isaiah tried to go inside to throw away his popsicle stick.
“Um, Mommy. The door is locked.”
Remember. I was in PJ’s. Only. And my cell phone was in my living room. So were my keys.
We tried every door on the house. We checked the windows. The good news? My house is impossible to burglarize.
Finally I faced the inevitable. I was going to have to start knocking on doors. I mean, that’s an impressive way to meet our neighbors, right? “Hi, I’m new to the neighborhood. I’m in my PJ’s. Can I use your phone?”
Turns out, everyone in our neighborhood works during the day. I tried asking a lady waiting for the bus if I could borrow her phone. It was an iPod.
My desperation finally led me to the corner flower shop.
They were kind souls who let me use their phone to call my husband for a rescue. He didn’t even answer his phone, because he didn’t recognize the number. So I had to leave a message, believing in faith that he would come unlock the house on his lunch break.
Until Chris came, I spent the next 10 hours (slight exaggeration) pulling weeds, while the kids argued over whether Leah was a town person, cowgirl or farmer and whether Sheriff Isaiah already knew her or if they had just met.
At the end of the story I was hot and stinky, covered in dirt and probably bugs. I was still recovering from the adrenalin rush of panic and I was hungry. But I was inside again.
This just proves my overall life premise. Bad things happen when you go outside.
