Turns out I'm way more street smart than my Mom ever gave me credit for. She always said I was book smart, but couldn't find my way out of a paper bag. Cheers to me traveling solo for the next year, huh?
I have skills I didn't even know about. Skills in breaking and entering. This is really good for me, not so great for my sister and brother-in-law and their confidence in their home security system.
Cam and I took a late night trip to the hospital to see her new baby sister, Isabella Grace. (more on that tomorrow) Jason put a sleepy Cam into her car seat, and we made the trek home around 12:30 am in a crazy rain storm. About half way home the orange gas light blinked on, and I panicked. You see I have quite the track record for running out of gas. I always give the car the benefit of the doubt that it will make it to where I need to be first. Thankfully, I didn't risk it this time.
We arrived home, full gas tank, around 1:15, and I went to open the garage, over-excited to hit the pillow. I was mighty pleased with myself when we left the house because I turned the latch on the garage so I would be sure I felt safer coming home alone so late. What I didn't realize is that you have to have a key to unlock the latch on the garage, a key which I do not have. I suppose those are the street smarts I'm missing.
I quietly jumped out of the car so as not to wake Cam, expecting to quickly open it and glide through the door, making my bedtime dreams come true. Locked. For real. Enter a lot of cursing here. Assured that the car with my sleeping beauty was secure, I jogged to the front of the house, vigilant of frogs, lizzards, and other creepers, damn well knowing I locked the front door, too. And since it's South Florida and hot as hades all the time, they never open the windows around here, so as you might well assume, they are locked too. The pole to secure the sliding patio door was diligently in place as I had left it also.
I called Jess and Jason about 100 times, but they are tired and sleeping as they should be. The thought of sleeping in the car was way more appealing than driving back to the hospital to get some keys. Just as I was about to give up hope and do something (I hadn't totally processed what yet), I decided to try the small window on the patio. I popped the screen out after about 7 minutes of struggling with it, and the window slid open. And all I could picture was Cam waking up, screaming for me, and me stuck in this small window because my rack is so stacked and wouldn't fit through. But after creatively maneuvering myself and my rack through the window I was safe. Ben was excited to see me, and didn't seem to think it was weird at all that I was coming through the window. He would not make a good guard dog. He would just lick someone to death.
So anyway, don't worry, we made it home. And I didn't get stuck in the window even though I'm well endowed.
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