After much careful planning and consideration last night, it was decided that I would go run my errands today with my dear friend Christina. Because I am so not brave enough to go out into the world yet with two kids that can't walk.
I fed Jay breakfast, sent Micah off to work, and got Dani dressed. At this point, I decided to load the car. I went out, like I always do, and put the diaper bag in the car, put my Diet Mountain Dew in the cup holder and the keys in the ignition. The I remembered that I had two strollers in the trunk and I better take them out so I could get groceries (and new baby clothes!).
My Malibu has doors that are supposed to automatically lock when I put the car in gear and unlock when I turn off the ignition. Let me say now that they only work about half the time anymore and my car isn't that old.
But I learned today that putting the key in the ignition and then popping the trunk apparently does make my car doors lock. Because when I went out 3 minutes later to put Jay in the car, his door was locked. I thought maybe I had hit the lock when I was picking up his shoe off of the car floor. So I tried the driver's door. Then the passenger door. Finally, Dani's door.
Nothing. They were all locked. And the only set of keys in the house were locked in their with my phone, too.
I couldn't just unlock the doors and I couldn't call Micah. I started to panic. It was absolutely imperative that I run errands today because it would be the last shred of free time I had until Wednesday.
I had to get creative. I got on facebook and turned on chat to see who was online. Thankfully a mutual friend of Micah and I was, so I had her call him. He hadn't left the depot yet, so he came home in his way to the route and let me in. And he wasn't even mad!
Lesson learned, From now on anytime my keys are in the car a door will be open.
Showing posts with label embarrassing stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label embarrassing stories. Show all posts
Friday, June 18, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
On Motorhead
Let me preface my near disastrous morning story with a story. For Valentine's Day, my wonderful husband bought me a t-shirt. I was pregnant at the time and just threw said t-shirt in the top of the closet and never really thought anything else about it. I maybe wear a t-shirt a 4 times a year and I'm not a fan of a large graphic print.
But he bought me this t-shirt because it had a picture of Lemmy from Motorhead playing the bass on the front. And hubby knows that if there is anything in the world I love, it's an ugly bass player. I'm pretty sure Lemmy has the market cornered on ugly bass players. Geddy Lee comes in a close second. And God help me, I love them both.
This morning, after a collective hour of sleep, I was getting dressed to take Jay to school. I decided to throw on my Motorhead t-shirt and some pants because I was too tired to care what I was wearing. Plus, it would make Micah happy that I was finally wearing the shirt.
Let me say now that I don't just pull up in front of the school and drop Jay off. I get out of the car, walk through the school, passing many teachers that have known me since I was Jay's age and usually stand in his room for a few minutes before going outside. This is important to the story, I promise.
God was watching over me this morning. Because in a move very uncharacteristic of my normal getting dressed routine, I turned the shirt with the back facing me for a second before I pulled it over my head. And that's when I saw it. There was no way I was wearing this shirt. There was some mighty graphic language on the back of said shirt. I would have probably been asked to remove it when I walked into the school. Yeah, it was that bad.
After I put the shirt back down on the bed, I called Micah into the bedroom. I yelled, "I can't wear this shirt." and he looked at me like I was nuts. I then asked him to look at the back of the shirt. He swears that the display only showed the front and he simply grabbed one in my size and walked to the register. So neither of us were smart enough to unfold the shirt anytime in the last 3 months.
Now, if you are offended by f-bombs and the b-word, please stop reading this post now. Because I am about to post a photo of the shirt just to make the point that I could not wear this thing. I am not usually offended by strong language, but OH MY!
But he bought me this t-shirt because it had a picture of Lemmy from Motorhead playing the bass on the front. And hubby knows that if there is anything in the world I love, it's an ugly bass player. I'm pretty sure Lemmy has the market cornered on ugly bass players. Geddy Lee comes in a close second. And God help me, I love them both.
This morning, after a collective hour of sleep, I was getting dressed to take Jay to school. I decided to throw on my Motorhead t-shirt and some pants because I was too tired to care what I was wearing. Plus, it would make Micah happy that I was finally wearing the shirt.
Let me say now that I don't just pull up in front of the school and drop Jay off. I get out of the car, walk through the school, passing many teachers that have known me since I was Jay's age and usually stand in his room for a few minutes before going outside. This is important to the story, I promise.
God was watching over me this morning. Because in a move very uncharacteristic of my normal getting dressed routine, I turned the shirt with the back facing me for a second before I pulled it over my head. And that's when I saw it. There was no way I was wearing this shirt. There was some mighty graphic language on the back of said shirt. I would have probably been asked to remove it when I walked into the school. Yeah, it was that bad.
After I put the shirt back down on the bed, I called Micah into the bedroom. I yelled, "I can't wear this shirt." and he looked at me like I was nuts. I then asked him to look at the back of the shirt. He swears that the display only showed the front and he simply grabbed one in my size and walked to the register. So neither of us were smart enough to unfold the shirt anytime in the last 3 months.
Now, if you are offended by f-bombs and the b-word, please stop reading this post now. Because I am about to post a photo of the shirt just to make the point that I could not wear this thing. I am not usually offended by strong language, but OH MY!
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