Not My Finest Hour

Today is my dear husband’s birthday and on this day of celebration, it’s unfortunate that his wife got beat by the stupid stick.  I know it has absolutely nothing to do with me going out to karaoke with my friends last night and possibly overindulging in a vast array of tasty beverages.  Nope…no connection whatsoever.

After waking up and feeling like I got run over by a truck, I dropped Kamryn off at school and immediately went back home and watched TV with Rory.  He watched two episodes of Parenthood with me without complaint.  That was enough of a break for me to get up and take a shower and then run to Wendy’s for the essential “morning after” french fry run.  Once I had my fill of deep fat fried deliciousness, it was time to pick Kamryn up from school.

Kamryn had her kindergarten evaluation today so she stayed after school with her teacher for an extra half hour while Mrs. M tested her.  I needed to be at school at 12:15 and when I walked out of the house, it was 12:04.  At 12:06, I realized I did not have my keys.  I had Rory with me so there was no way that I could get to school in time.  If I had a stroller, I could have busted ass to get there in time, but with a dawdling 3 year old in tow, it was out of the question.

I contemplated calling the school to tell them I would be late, but decided against that and instead called my friend, Kate, who lives only a couple of blocks away and stated my dilemma.  She offered to go pick up Kamryn at school and explain to Mrs. M that Kamryn’s mom is a moron and locked herself out.  I agreed that that was probably best.

Rory and I walked to Kate’s house while she went to pick up Kamryn with her girls, who were very concerned about Kamryn’s state of mind since I wasn’t at school to get her.  I love how Kamryn’s friends are looking out for her in her hour of need.  Fortunately, Kamryn doesn’t get too worked up about that sort of thing and I’m sure was pleasantly surprised to be picked up by her friends instead of her mother.

In the meantime, I had tried calling  Ryan at work and got his voicemail.  I left him a message and then sent him a follow up text in case he was in a meeting.  Next I texted my brother, who has a spare key, to see if I could easily break into his place to retrieve my key.  There was not, but he agreed to drive home on his lunch break to unlock his place so I could get the key.

Kamryn, Rory and I walked to my brother’s place, which is luckily about 50 yards away from our house, got the key and finally got home.  The whole ordeal took an hour.

This is when we all sit back and wonder what we did before cell phones and try to figure out what we would have done to resolve the issue.  I do not know anyone’s phone number anymore.  I know 3 phone numbers:  mine, Ryan’s cell and my parent’s home number.  That’s it.  I don’t know my brother’s cell, parents’ cells, Ryan’s work and certainly not the number of anyone I have met in the last 10 years.

Honestly, I think I would have attempted to somehow climb up on the balcony and go through the siding glass door, which was open.  We have a huge ladder hanging out on our balcony which two different people have request to borrow after locking themselves out of their condos.  It seems we are the only people with a ladder tall enough to get up on a 2nd floor balcony.  And it’s a bit ironic that the only ones the ladder can’t help are the owners of said ladder during a lock out situation.  That should have been one of the verses of Alanis’s song.

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