Famous last words . . .

Amylynn entitled yesterday’s blog post “We had all better hope something funny happens“.  And wouldn’t you know it – it did . . . to her.

I’m sitting in my office without a fork and I see Amylynn come up the sidewalk.  Oddly, it’s just Amylynn.  No purse, lunch bag or most importantly – no bag containing our breakfast burritos.  I hear her ring our security door bell and then someone buzz her in.  I dash right to the inner locked door and open it to allow her passage into the private inner sanctum of our space.

“Whatcha doin’?” I say.

“I locked my keys in the car.”

I do not heckle her, after all, I’m the person who locked my keys in the trunk and had to be rescued from the grocery store.

Back to our story.

She calls her husband to report that she is an idiot and to get help.  The whole plan comes down to her lovely mother-in-law bringing her the house keys and taking her home to get the spare car keys.  That seems fairly simple right?

Nope.  We mess that up by my telling Amylynn to just take “Carly” (I name all of my cars so they’re nice to me) to her mother-in-law’s to get the key instead of making her drive to our office and then to Amy’s house.  We feel this is an excellent idea and call m-in-l with the change.

To protect the innocent, I’m going to leave the next part vague.  It results in Amylynn coming back to the office with hangers, our security guard, a blade of grass, a paper clip, and Amy’s spouse calling to find out how the hell we messed up such a simple solution to the crisis.

In the end, the vehicle gets open but not with the key which is obtained after a second trip in Carly, a trip to the bathroom and more keys being locked in Amylynn’s house.

It will take Amylynn the better part of the day to get over this event but I’m quite happily sitting here eating my still-warm burrito and telling you this tale.

You’re welcome.

***Comments by Amylynn***

I have no intention of trying to defend myself. In fact, let me just add a few more details. Yes indeedy, I did lock my keys in the car with my purse, cell phone, security badge and breakfast burritos for the office on the passenger seat. I knew it almost the instant it happened. Our receptionist suggested that we call AAA and have them come open the car.

“But who knows how long that will take,” I said, “And I want my burrito. I’m very hungry.”

“Tell then you left your baby in the car. That’ll get them here right quick. Then when they open the car say, ‘Oh did I say baby? I meant burrito.’ That’s how everyone does it.” I seriously think our receptionist has missed her calling in crime.

Then all the manic driving around happened because I got flustered and couldn’t think things through. I’m excellent during other people’s crises but, with my own, clearly I’m a moron.  By the time I finally got a hold of the house keys I had to pee so desperately I was doing that stupid wiggle dance. I burst into my house and trotted down the hall, grabbed the spare car keys and ran into the bathroom. Then, because I’d already been racing around for over an hour with this nonsense, I sped out the front door locking the hasp as I slammed the door. Once again I realized almost immediately that I’d managed to lock the house keys inside the house and consequently I couldn’t lock the deadbolts. That gave me pause. I stood in my front yard laughing hysterically because, really, what else could I do?

I’d also like to mention that when I got back, Ava informed me that My Honey had called to yell at her in my stead and “I let him because you’re dumb.” When he said, “she (meaning me) and my mom can’t manage to get this coordinated, but if it had something to do with shopping you better believe there wouldn’t be any problems”, Ava admitted that she agreed with him, “Cause that’s totally true.”

So, to sum up, I locked the car keys in the car and the house keys in the house AND managed to screw up the easiest plan in the world.

Sigh.