It was Monday night, the weather was gorgeous, HJ was happy and I was grilling some dinner for us and a Mr. JP.  Mr. JP had yet to arrive when I had started our meal.  The main course was bruschetta chicken.  Grilled chicken, fresh mozzarella, tomatoes and basil…yum.  I also had some bread to make a few pieces of bruschetta.  I had sliced up some yummy fruit and had the oven set to broil for the bread.  The grill was all heated up and the chicken was starting to look yummy.  I put the bruschetta in the oven (it only takes a few minutes) and put a movie in for HJ (he is obsessed with Toy Story).  I went outside on the deck to finish up the chicken.  I had to hurry so I could pull the bread out of the broiler before it burned.  I had my back to the patio door when I heard it.  CLICK.

Huh, I thought.  I wonder what that was.  Then I hear a “Hi mommy!”.  Oh no.  I turn around.  The little rascal had locked the patio door.

I went over to the door and pointed to the lock.  HJ started crying wondering why he couldn’t come out and play with me.  I started becoming a little nervous.  I have no way in the house.  I look at my bare feet and the mud covered yard (my grass has yet to grow) and ponder the chances that one of the doors in the front is open.  I make a mad dash to the front.  Front door…locked and dead bolted.  I open the garage with the key pad.  The garage door was also locked and dead bolted…but luckily there were a pair of flip-flops in there!  By now the dog is barking and I can hear HJ screaming.  I run around to the back again.  I try windows.  Nothing.  (I guess it’s good to know my house is safe)  I run over to where the construction workers are to see if anyone has a master-key.  Of course not. 

Right then, Mr. JP shows up.  He looks at me confused and asks where HJ is. “Small problem,” I say, “he locked me out.”

We both head around to the back and look at HJ through the patio door.  HJ thinks this is hilarious and proceeds to climb onto the kitchen table.  I am shouting through the window for him to get down and paranoid he will fall and get hurt.

Mr.JP and I assess the situation.  No one has been given a spare key yet.  In fact, the spare key is sitting on the kitchen table in our view.  At one point, HJ even picks it up and shouts “KEY!”  Mr.JP did have a phone though.  He got on the phone and started calling locksmiths, while I tried to entertain HJ.  HJ had noticed I had all the fruit out on the table and was happily munching away.  He would randomly wonder over to the door and attempt to unlock it, but he was a smidge too short to push the lock up far enough.  This caused him to get really upset.  He kept yelling “me play outside too!”  Poor kid couldn’t figure out why I would stand outside and taunt him so.

This was about the time HJ remembered Toy Story was on and wondered into the living room.  Mr. JP was on the phone with a locksmith (while nibbling on the grilled chicken).  He told the locksmith a toddler was inside with the oven on and we needed help ASAP The locksmith said he could be there within an hour.  While this conversation was going on, I was in the background yelling, “No HJ, yucky! Ew!  Put it down!”  He had found a pack of gum on top of the kitchen table by this point and was unwrapping every piece and tossing it around the kitchen.  Then, he must have thought the dog wanted some and he chased the poor pup around the house trying to shove gum into his mouth. 

The locksmith must have heard my pleas. He was there within 20 minutes.  He took the door knob off the back door and attempted to make a spare key.  It wasn’t working.  He tried again.  HJ was bored by this point and had noticed his movie was over.  This led to the DVD player being thrown across the living room, DVD cases scattered about the house, toys all over and him screaming.

The locksmith kept trying.  I was freaking out by this point.  The locksmith decided to try his luck at the patio door.  That is when the fire alarm went off (I am surprised it took that long).  This made everyone freak.  The dog started barking, HJ was screaming at the top of his lungs.  Mr.JP suggested I go ask the construction workers to call someone with a master-key.  I think that was his way of getting me out of there so I didn’t have a nervous breakdown. 

I took off running.  When I approached the workers, one of them was on the phone.  He took one look at my face and said, “I have to call you back.  You okay?”

“Mysonlockedmeoutofthehouseandthefirealarmisgoingoffandthelocksmithcantgetin.”

(That was me shouting quickly “my son locked me out of the house and the fire alarm is going off and the lock smith can’t get in)

He started calling people with the master keys right away.  We could hear the fire alarm (which by the way, not only beeps but also says “FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE”) from where we were and I was almost in tears.  I was about to break down a window.

Then I heard it.  A wail and a “MOMMY!”  HJ came running down the driveway!  The locksmith got in finally!  I went running back home and held my little pumpkin kissing him over and over.  I looked at the locksmith and thanked him, asking him how much I owed him.

He must have felt bad for me.  He said that his son had locked his wife out of their house once and he knows how she felt, so not to worry about it.

After an hour and a half, I finally got back inside…where the bruschetta had left quite the burnt smell and got to eat a partial dinner with HJ and Mr.JP.

2 Thoughts on “The Importance of a Spare Key

  1. Melissa on August 17, 2011 at 7:04 pm said:

    Only you would have this happen! Too funny!

  2. O-M-G. . .you POOR POOR MOMMY!!!!! Positive Spin: HJ will never remember this. Reality Spin: You will. Forever. And it might even cause you nightmares from time to time. :-(

    I’m so sorry that you went through this but SOO glad that no one was seriously hurt or the house didn’t catch on fire.

    Having something like this happen makes you thankful that your house is so secure that even you can’t break in but it also encourages us to figure out a back up plan for when we really need to get back in when little people have locked us out! I know, I’ve been there!

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