Friday, July 24, 2009

I Can Laugh About It Now

Casey and I have a long, sad history with locks. Or more specifically...getting locked out. Our most recent instance was just over a month ago on the day we moved. But the first one happened while we were babysitting...

We were babysitting for some friends one evening and decided to take the kids (ages 2.5 and 6 months) outside to play for a while. We did not realize that the handle lock on the door was in the locked position but that you could still turn the door handle so we locked ourselves - and the kids - out of the house. Thankfully, the kids hardly minded playing outside while we waited for the locksmith, but Casey and I were trying really hard not to freak out. This one ended well...especially when you consider the next two.

The second memorable time was one evening a couple of years ago when Casey and I had headed out to Taco Bueno just down the street from our house to pick up dinner. Casey had locked the back door on his way out (like we were used to doing) but he didn't know that I didn't have my house key with me because I had taken it off earlier that day for another purpose. Oops. After unsuccessfully trying to pick the lock, we realized that we had two break the lock and just replace it or to drive to my mom's house (15 min. away) and get her copy of our house key. Casey persuaded me that we should just break the lock and save some time...maybe our food would still be relatively warm when we got inside. Long story short...we couldn't break the lock. Try as we might (and we did try), it would not break. So we went to get my mom's key...and our food did get cold. AND we had to replace the lock anyway because although we could not break it, we definitely did some damage.

And finally, the night before we moved into our new house Casey and I were sleeping on our mattress in the middle of our living room floor in the old house. We had just turned off the TV to go to sleep and Casey said, "hey, where's the key to the new house?" And before I could even answer he said, "oh, nooooo." He realized (as did I) that we had accidentally packed our new house key. It was in the folder with all our mortgage paperwork. And that folder was in a box with our office files. And that box was already on the moving the very, very front of the moving truck. Our realtor didn't have an extra key, the old owners were already on their way out of state and we had scheduled friends and family to come help us move at 9am the next morning. Panic set in.

So, the next morning at 7am we called a 24 hr. locksmith. And after 2 whole hours, he finally showed up and picked the lock. It was either that, or unload ALL of the truck contents on to our new front lawn until we reached the box with the key. I did know exactly which box it was in, but we decided not to do that.

We like to keep it interesting. I wonder what our next fiasco will be?

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