I should have written this post, um, a week and a half ago when it actually happened, but a wicked cold and brutal sleep-deprivation from said cold along with a general case of the Blahs has made me scarce in the blogosphere lately. Anyway, here it is…
A few Fridays ago, we had the first official summeresque day of the year.
The kids and I had lovely time at the playground. Arlo entertained himself without eating a single grain of sand. Elliot ran around like a wild animal that had finally been let out of its cage.
After Arlo had collected the entire contents of the sandbox within his shorts, we walked down to the nearby shops to buy some knitting needles. The girl-child complained the whole way, telling me, “I’m so tired of that place” even though we hadn’t actually been there in months. When we arrived, the knit shop was mysteriously closed. Sometimes Elliot’s powers terrify me.
We began the walk home, marching to this soundtrack: “I’m so tired. This is a long walk. My legs are telling me I need to sit down.” Because I’m super awesome, I neglected to bring the baby’s sling so I could throw Elliot into the stroller once the inevitable Whine Fest began. Instead, I decided to try and give her a piggy-back ride. While hoisting her onto my back, half the drivers on the busy street beside me were treated to a lovely peepshow of motherly back fat and ass crack as Elliot’s heavy body weighed down on my pants’ waistline. After all that effort, I only made it a half a block as her grip around my neck was choking me. I don’t know about you, but I’m addicted to this crazy drug called Oxygen. Without it, I seem to die.
What’s that you say? Not em-bare-assing enough for you? Oh, right. I forgot to tell you about what happened before we left for the playground. I was running around like a mad woman grabbing snacks, lathering on sunscreen, throwing clothes at wee people, and generally mourning the days when I could pick up my shit and leave the house in 5 minutes. The days before a walk to the playground became a ridiculous three-hour production from intention to execution. I was relieved that it was actually warm enough to make wearing jackets unnecessary. As I closed the locked door behind me, I realized something mildly inconvenient. My house keys were in my jacket. Fa-RICK.
4 hours before Jay comes home. A baby still in need of an afternoon nap. A stroller needed for the walk to the park, locked in the bloody garage. Thus began my attempt to break into my own house. I pulled a plastic lawn chair up to one of the windows in the backyard determined to keep this a private shame. Plus, if I did manage to break into my house, I didn’t need people witnessing my technique and taking notes for their own attempts to gain access into it. Sadly, all the back windows were properly locked.
Desperate, I moved to the front yard, keenly aware that many of my neighbors would see the crazy woman standing on a chair yelling obscenities at a window while an impressionable audience of two looked on over their sippy cups.
We have those old metal slider windows. Apparently, if installed incorrectly, you can just take the windows right out. Right out. So, the good news is - it was easy to break in. The bad news? It was easy to break in. Obviously, new windows - failing that, better locks - are needed immediately if even I, with my limited skills in the art of B and E’s, can gain access into my house at such an alarming speed.
It took me a minute to realize that I was celebrating my victory too soon - the window ledge was too high. Someone who’s arms are not of the spaghetti variety or who isn’t part elf could have easily pulled themselves up. Me? Not so much. Instead, I had to coax a very reluctant three-year-old to join me on my lawn chair and lift her onto the window ledge. I told her to fetch my jacket with the keys in it. She brought me the wrong jacket. Jeebus! Must remember to get smarter criminal accomplices. Scratch that - must remember not to be such a dumb ass in the first place. My tiny co-conspirator then made a hero of herself by opening up the front door.
Have you made an ass of yourself lately?
every day of my life, andi. every day of my life.
my pants fall down a lot too under the weight of the boy. it’s so gross.
Wow, I’ve had those kinds of days before and not much can be said besides the fact that they do indeed make for good storytelling after you’re done screaming into a pillow for a day or two afterwards.
at least she brought you the right jacket. When Giggles was 3 I was locked out, we shoved her in a window and she decided that she needed a juice box and needed to watch some t.v. It was a good 20 minutes before she decided to come open up the door.
“determined to keep this a private shame” Um, that could be my motto. Someone should pay me to make an ass out of myself, because it happens frequently and apparently, I am just plain awesome at it. I would get promotions almost daily.
PS. I accidentally flashed and mooned my neighbor the other day.
I think I’m constantly flashing my ass at the park whilst bending over to pick up the Stink. And I think if Punky was my partner in crime he’d laugh at me while inside and say “Mama, I’m playing a trick on you” and never open the door….
I would give you a list, but it is much too numerous and painful.
Sigh.
oh how i feel your pain sister.
seriously have you been over to my world lately??
i locked beans in the car. at the doctors office on friday!! requiring a police man, a huge firetruck, three firemen and the fire chief to rescue her.
talk about bad mommy moment!
I posted almost the same day a little bit back, so I feel your pain! I didn’t have a partner in crime to help me I could have used one too.
you crack me up. once i was trying to get a stuck window unstuck and put my arm through the glass. how dumb is THAT?
and i share your awful cold.
ugh.
I’m so sorry but this is just damn funny. Well done! (The post, not the dumb bunny moves.)
And why yes I have lately made a dumbass of myself and even posted about it two weeks ago. But it wasn’t quite as bad as yours so, you win.
Oh Andi that is hysterical. I might have peed my pants a little.
I guess that counts as something embarassing?
Thanks for your sharing your darig feats. The next time something extremely embarassing happens to me, you’ll be the first to know.
BTW, I’m still giggling.
I make coffee in all my milk stained glory and underwear each morning. If my neighbor continues to peer furtively through her windows, she’ll damn well see whatever I feel most comfortable in.
I loved the…intention to execution bit!
Hilarious and definitely cringe-worthy! I make a dumbass of myself a lot.
I’m sure I’ve even mooned people.
Ha!! Oh I did something rather similar the other day (locked the garage door into the house). I panicked and nearly broke the door frame getting back in the house.
Good news and bad news…you can easily get in my house if you just hit the door with your hip hard enough.
Andi, you are my new hero. How tall would you like your statue?
I locked myself out of the house a couple of weeks ago, too! But in my case it was raining. And my windows don’t work like that.
Credit cards are like keys to my back door…sort of. *G* I eventually got in, but not until I was thoroughly wet.
I’m too busy laughing at you, uh, WITH you to recall the zillions of times I’ve had like experiences. I like you even more.
Is there a day that goes by where I don’t?
There’s a neighbor guy who is a bit on the cute side.
As I was doing my power hoofing and working up a stinky sweat, I came to his house on my walk. He was outside. As I crossed the street, I tripped over my own feet AGAIN right in front of his house. Why does that keep happening to me?
My husband can one up you, although I suspect he doesn’t realize it. He has successfully locked himself out of our house while walking the dogs no less than four times. (Mind you, the only thing on our street is our little housing complex and the POLICE DEPT.–we’re totally the hotbed of criminal activity. NOT.) Anyway, one of those times I was out of town for work. He called me at 9:00 am to tell me he was locked out and asked me to help him. I was 1600 miles away. I’m still trying to figure out how he thought I could possibly be helpful. He eventually figured out how to dial the number for a locksmith and got in, six hours later.
I couldn’t possibly write it down- too embarrassing. I will say that I have a weak bladder, I’ll let you take it from there.
I make an ass of myself pretty much every day.
I love you. You had me rolling here. But truly, I am sorry for this bit of misery, so I hope it’s a consolation that such an interesting day makes for excellent blogfodder.
Not like that!
Though today, on my way to my mother’s for the weekend, I brought all the fixings for frozen yogurt and the freezer bowl, and left ice cream maker at home. So, what shall we do with a quart of yogurt?
Hahaha! I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve hoisted Matilda in through a window! Okay, I can probably tell you, but I won’t, just know that it was more than once and the first time she was barely walking.
Hilarious!
When our first was about 5 or 6 months old, a friend came to babysit so that we could go out to dinner.
This is what we saw when we returned: Our babysitting friend and another friend huddled on the front stoop as rain poured down. Apparently, our babysitting friend locked herself out because she forgot to turn the little button before shutting the door behind her.
She had called our other friend, hoping she might have an extra key.
The poor thing was humiliated.
The baby, already tucked in for the night, slept through the whole thing.
I cannot tell you how excited it makes me that I’m not alone in my ability to make an ass of myself. I can’t believe some of the shenanigans some of you have gotten yourselves into -
Burgh Baby - Your husband cracks me up. So funny that he called you to rescue him.
I’m impressed that you got her to let you in! If I was locked out of my house my kdis would laugh at me and eat all my chocolate.
Hi Andi - wow what a clever little girl. If you had tried that stunt here in South Africa you would have had every security company screaming to the house to arrest you!! Loved the post!