5:37 a.m.
Poke, poke, poke.
Me: What the hell are you people doing in my bed? Why the hell are you people waking me up! Leave me alone!
Little people noisily stomp off and slam the door shut and then proceed to make enough noise that I can’t fall back asleep
8:15 a.m.
The boy: How much longer till I go to camp?
Me: We leave at 8:45 so thirty minutes.
8:22 a.m.
The boy: How much longer till I go to camp?
Me: Look at the clock. You can read the time.
The boy: Yeah. [pause] So how much longer?
Me: [sigh] Twenty-three minutes.
8:30 a.m.
The boy: How much longer till I go to camp?
Me: What does the clock say?
The boy: 8:30.
Me: And what time are we leaving?
The boy: 8:45.
Me: So?
The boy: So? How much longer till we go to camp?
8:41 a.m.
The boy: How much longer till I go to camp?
Me: Sigh. Okay, go ahead. The keys are on the counter. Go get them and and get into the car.
The boy: I can get into the car!
Me: Yes. Grab the keys and get into the car.
The boy: Pie! We can get into the car! Let’s go!
8:47 a.m.
I grab my purse, close the door, and head outside. I open the car door.
Me: Where are the keys?
The boy: Huh?
Me: The keys. The car keys.
The boy: I dunno.
Me: What do you mean you don’t know? How did you get into the car?
The boy: The front door was open so I climbed through and opened the side door.
Me: So no keys?
The boy: Nuh-uh.
Me: So the keys are still inside the house.
The boy: I guess.
Me: And we’re outside the house.
The boy: Yeah.
Me: You realize this means we’re locked out.
The boy: Huh?
8:51 a.m.
Panicked call to the window guy’s voice mail who was supposed to come at 9:30 a.m. to FINALLY put shades up in our front room and family room so our neighbors once and for all don’t have to see me in the pjs in the winter. Call Beetle’s husband to see if, by any chance, he left any doors unlocked because they have a spare key to our house. Beetle is in Vermont and due back later today. Of course, no doors are unlocked. Contemplate how late we’d be if we take the boy to camp by bus. Leave a message for Adam, who is in London, asking him where the hell he’s hidden the extra key.
8:57 a.m.
Pleading call to neighbor to drive the boy to camp. Go with boy and girl with neighbor to camp. Get home. Beetle’s husband calls. He suspects there’s a hidden key. We look. There is a hidden key! Unfortunately it fits none of the locks to their house. I take Pie back to the neighbor’s house to use the bathroom, window guy shows up (didn’t get message in time, but was really nice and it), and Pie and I walk down to Starbucks. I am grateful that it’s Pie I’m with, as she can handle the mile walk without any complaint. Others, who I shall not name, are not as sturdy.
10:11 a.m.
Pie: Mama, we are so lucky to be locked out!
Me: What do you mean?
Pie: Mama, it’s summer!
10:25 a.m.
After one venti iced green tea with one pump of sweetener, one chocolate milk, and one cinnamon-swirl coffee cake, Jasmine and her mom and sister come and rescue us. (I don’t think I’ve ever named Jasmine’s mom before. We’ll call her Laurel.) We head to Laurel’s house for the morning. I text Adam again. I comment on a Facebook post he made and even leave my own Facebook post asking him to contact me. I start calling anyone I know from his local office to see if I can find a number for the London office. Â I leave another voice mail. Another text. And another e-mail.
12:15 p.m.
My husband doesn’t call, but Beetle’s husband checks in. Beetle will be home by 3:30.
1:12 p.m.
Adam calls! He hasn’t received a single one of my messages and is therefore surprised to find that I’m frazzled. He tells me where the key is. Yes! I leave Pie with Jasmine and, in 92 degree weather, walk home (not a long walk, but still a hot walk).
1:35 p.m.
Find key exactly where he described it would be. Hmm, key looks a little odd.
1:37 p.m.
Try key on front door. Curse Adam.
1:38 p.m.
Try key on kitchen door. Curse Adam.
1:39 p.m.
Try key on basement door. Curse Adam.
1:40 p.m.
Try key on playroom door. Curse Adam.
1:41 p.m.
Realize the key is the front door key… from before the locks were changed, oh, about a year ago.
1:45 p.m.
Walk the mile to the bus stop.
3:07 p.m.
Get the boy from camp and take the bus back home.
3:17 p.m.
Walk the mile back up the hill to our house. (“How much longer till we’re there? How much longer now?”)
3:37 p.m.
Beetle is home! She has our key! We enter the house!
3:38 p.m.
Hide a key that works in a location that only I know.
Hurry and get Doodles into his swimsuit, pick Pie up from Jasmine’s, and get to the Y in time for swim class with mere minutes to spare.
5:15 p.m.
Pie is monstrous. She wants to stay at the Y, but we have to hurry home for her piano lesson at 6:15.
5:45 p.m.
Feed kids dinner. Pie is rebellious. Pie loses her TV for the night.
6:10 p.m.
Pie: How much longer till my piano teacher comes?
Me: Five more minutes.
I notice there’s a voice mail. Piano teacher double booked. We lose.
I cave. Kids get TV. I get wine. I am so all done with today.
