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being nessasary

a quirky look into being

Hide yo kids, hide yo wife!  We lookin’ fo’ you!

Well, me.

Early this afternoon I was heading out the back door, two bags of recycling in hand, my coat zipped and buttoned, and my purse slung over my shoulder. I mechanically twisted the lock behind me and shut the door behind me.  I reached in my puffy pocket for my keys so that I could secure the dead lock in place. No keys.  You can see where this is going – my other pocket, empty.  Caverous purse, not empty, but lacking keys (though I found many a receipt, pennies, lip gloss, and some sparkles).

I peeked through the kitchen window. There they were.  Right next to the sink.  Safe and sound on a recently disinfected counter-top.

There I was, out in the cold with two bags of recycling.  Merry Christmas! Knowing my windows were all locked on account of a similar situation this summer.  I did a bit a tinkin’.  I remembered the little bathroom window that sits about 6 feet off the ground.  I reached window-ward, and managed to push it a few inches upward.  I think I actually yipped, a YAY!

My garage has a code entry and I was able to navigate my way through the broken snippers and old paint cans to a ladder  in need of some serious love. 

Me and Mr. Ladder tromped through the snow to said bathroom window (by bathroom window, I mean shower window…old houses are silly).  I sturdied the ladder, and made my way up to the window.  I pushed the frosted glass upward, and a burst of warm air kissed my cheeks.  I peeked in, and began to scheme. How in the world was I going to contort myself through such a tiny window without killing myself?

1) I needed to remove my constrictive coat (despite its awesomeness).

2) Remember how far the window is off the bathtub floor.

3) Not fall.

Luckily, I was able to get my almighty right leg inside first.  I found the ground and the rest of my body followed suit (my balance on the left leg isn’t so hot since the surgery).  Yay!!!!  I successfully broke into my house.

I stepped from my shower into the interior of my bathroom, leaving dirty boot stains on the tub floor.

I know what I am buying myself for Christmas this year:  a spare key.

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