If you’re an ordered person, you might want to know that when you have kids order goes out the window. Take my house: there is diaper smell everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Toys, little sock balls, yesterday’s pajamas and boxes of wipes trip me up when I try to go to the bathroom at night or make my coffee in the morning. Tiny fingerprints and banana boogers on my computer screen. Cheerios crunching on the floor with each step. Gates and clips that are not only baby-proof but also Sasha-proof. Freshly folded laundry dumped out and strewn about.
But worst of all, is how long it takes to get out of the house. And oh my goodness, forget it if you want to actually go away somewhere. Every time we go away these days, there is an unavoidable musical chairs game of keys. Somebody gets the mailbox key, someone else gets my house keys so they can come and feed Blueberry the cat, hubby’s house keys get left at my parents’ so they can use the car, etc etc etc. So, it’s no small wonder that one of these days something would go awry, as things tend to do around me.
We had just come back from a lovely long weekend at a lakeside golf resort, where we took walks in the woods, ate barbeque pork nachos, soaked in an infinity pool, and watched my friend get married. I had taken a day off on Monday so I could relax, and catch up with Munchkin, who stayed back with my parents. We had left Hubby’s car at my office parking lot, thinking that we would pick it up on the way back. We pulled into our driveway, and Hubby exclaimed: “What the fuck!! Where is my car!” and then, as we both realized that it was still in the parking lot, we both said, “Oh, fuck!” It was 10 pm and we were not going back: Munchkin was snoozing in the back, but was starting to stir, and badly needed to be transferred to his crib. Babysitter 1 would come at her scheduled time and take me up.
On my day off, it was rainy and a little dreary outside, but toddlers usually get a little wild after spending more than one to two hours in the same place, so I decided we could take a leisurely walk around the gardens, so to say, and burn off some steam and energy. I dressed him, I dressed my self, I grabbed my keys, stuck them in the pocket of my windbreaker, ushered Munchkin outside, stepped over the threshold myself, and gently shut the door behind me, making sure that it was locked. I wanted to make sure it was locked, you see, because while we were gone, babysitter 1 came to feed the cat, thought she heard a noise, freaked out, and called the police! Granted, she may have been overreacting a bit, but better safe than sorry.
Although, her overly safety-oriented mind resulted in a disaster of sorts. When we finally got over the shock of the fact that we, and especially Hubby,w ho never forgets anything, forgot to get our car from my office, got out of the car, and into the house, we realized that the downstairs porch door was wide open, and Blueberry was nowhere to be found. Convinced that he was eaten by coyotes, we went to bed depressed.
Well, I stepped over threshold and shut the door behind me. I wiggled the the door knob to my satisfaction… right as I realized that my big chain of keys doesn’t actually hold my house keys at the moment – babysitter 1 had them! She was feeding the cat while we were gone!
Munchkin wasn’t all that excited about the rain, and was getting a bit whiney.
I have my car keys! We can go to the mall! I thought. … but I have no car.
I immediately called Hubby, thinking he would, of course, immediately come to my rescue.
Unfortunately, he informed me, as he chuckled in disbelief – or maybe belief? – that he had actually left his keys IN the house for me, knowing that babysitter 1 still had mine!
I called babysitter 1 – she said she did, indeed, have my keys, but that she was at work and about to go into a meeting, and could be there in about an hour.
I then called babysitter 2, but she was at work.
Babysitter 2 called back – embarrassed, she tells me that she actually misplaced her entire set of keys at her university, and that they were currently held hostage by campus security.
Munchkin and I started making our way slowly down the gravel driveway towards my landlady’s house. It’s right there – and at least she must have a key. I called her, of course, to be polite, before ringing the doorbell. She told me that she would love to let me into my house, but that she was taking her son to the doctor – in Boston! And would not be back for over 2 or 3 hours.
Munchkin headed for the landlady’s swing and play structure. Then he changed his mind, and crossed the green front lawn. I turned around to look back at him, only to have him scream, “NO!!” and wag his finger at me. Why would my son suddenly want privacy? Well, privacy of sorts, considering he was in the middle of an expansive green lawn.
Well, this could only mean one thing…
Check… yep, he definitely has that look on his face. He was pooping.
The perfect storm! Rain, no keys, no car, a potentially dead cat, and a poop covered child.
Fortunately, at this moment, babysitter 1 pulled up. She felt pity on me, and canceled her meeting.
So, she lets us in the house, we go to change Munchkin’s diaper…. and he falls off the couch while I had him by the feet, landing on his cute button nose!
Oh the horrors, I thought he had broken it… Fortunately, this was nothing a little “Emmo” (Sesame Street) couldn’t fix.
Then we took a nap for 2 hours.
Something always works out!