One of the first things I do most mornings is go out the back door to the garage, get something out of the freezer for dinner, and walk around to the front to come back in. With the puppy in tow, we ventured out as usual this morning. Grabbing the chicken from the freezer, we went out the garage door and pushed the “down door” button behind us. Jasper played and jumped, chewing pine cones and sticks in the sunshine.
After just a few minutes, we went up the ramp to the house and my heart stopped. (Well, not really, I am trying to vamp up the drama here…) The front door was closed… OK… he never remembers to lock it when he goes to work. That is almost never. Not panicking we walked back down the ramp to the back of the house to use the side door to the garage. He rarely locks that one either… until now. We are officially locked out, holding a frozen chicken, wearing pajamas.
Fortunately for me, I wear lounge pants and a tank, instead of something a little more, er, girly. The walk to the neighbors wasn’t THAT bad, and making calls was tolerable. We waited in the sun for about 20 minutes before my mother-in-law rescued us. So, that wasn’t too bad, either.
What really annoyed me was that he finally listened and locked the doors! Men!
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