I call those "Sitcom Moments" and, according to some of my friends, I seem to have more than my fair share of them.
They happen so frequently that I don't give them too much thought anymore. Except this week. This week they keep happening. Seriously. It's crazy.
A few nights ago I got home from work to find myself locked out of the house. Not because I'd forgotten my keys or anything like that, but because the lock just didn't work anymore. Like it suddenly decided it had had enough of the back and forth thing that locks do and it was done. Kaput. With me on the wrong side of the door.
So, there I am, in heels and a skirt, scoping out ways to break into my own home. I shoved the dog house over so it was under the bedroom window and climbed up. I was so sure that would work. I got the screen off (I won't mention how proud I was of that accomplishment) and started trying to get the [locked] window open. Now, I don't know how I actually would have managed to boost myself up and into the window if I had gotten it open (have I mentioned that I'm only 5' tall and the window was still well above my head, even standing on the doghouse), but it never got to that point. One of the neighbors had their adult children visiting and they started becoming very interested in my attempted break in.
I was no longer worried about my rear in the air while I tried to shimmy through the window, I was afraid that someone was going to call the cops on me. And how would I EVER explain that to my husband? He'd never let me live it down. So, I wound up waiting in my car for the hubby and children to return from wherever they'd been and then he broke into the house with minimal effort.
Then the following night the dog popped a board out of the fence to sneak into the neighbor's yard. Only I didn't know that he was sneaking into the neighbor's yard...I thought he'd managed to escape. So, I did what any responsible pet owner would do. I freaked out and ran down the road screaming for him to come back. (I'm sure anyone who heard me/saw me figured they knew why he'd taken off.)
While I was out chasing him down he crawled back through the fence to return home...bringing his treasure of the neighbor kid's soccer ball (now deflated) home with him. But, because I'd gone sprinting from the house I'd left my phone behind. And, because of that, Hubs had to go looking for me.
I think I owe Hubby some chocolate for all my "Sitcom Moments". I've never realized how often he has to come bail me out...
Anyway, after the dog was home, and I was home, and everyone was safe and sound the cat decided she'd been neglected far too long.
My 6 year old had been painting pictures while I was out casing the neighborhood. So, you guessed it, Natasha decided to paint to. First, she walked across the beautiful blue ocean he'd painted, and then she proceeded to try to wipe herself clean on the carpet. (This is the same dynamic duo that I caught playing 'fetch' with the green apples. The cat would toss them off the counter for the dog to retrieve.)
Seriously, I hadn't even caught my breath from my yearly spurt of running when this started happening. And, as such, I couldn't quite formulate the words to get anyone to do anything about it.
My ten year old finally realized what my flailing was all about and took matters into his own hands by addressing the issue with his brother.
That, my friends, was ONE NIGHT in my house.
I won't even tell you about my office move last week. One word can sum up the whole experience:
Do you have regular "Sitcom Moments" in your life?