Does this ever happen to you?
It's just you and one of your children going to church. And it's so nice to have a light load, you don't even want to lug in your purse. So you stuff it under the car seat and leave the door unlocked.
But when you come back, it's locked. So you start walking the streets with your 4-year-old. In a new pair of shoes that you knew you'd have one good hour in before you got blisters.
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You find a friend at home and she drives you to your house. But The Husband is at baseball practice. And the neighbor with your key, who is always home, is not.
So you try another neighbor to ask if you can stay there for a bit. But they are sitting down to Sunday lunch. And you realize you haven't eaten anything since that 100 calorie Kellogg's bar at 7 a.m. You're starving.
And you're sweating. It's 80 degrees, your hair is sticking to your neck, your silk dress is clinging to your legs, your eyes are watering in the sun, while your sunglasses rest in a cool, dark pocketbook.
Your friend takes you back to her house and gives you water, a hair tie, and seven Band-Aids. You use her phone to call your husband's cell phone to find out what field they're on. But he doesn't have his phone.
So your friend gets out her church and school directories. And you start calling moms at home, so they can call dads at the field, so they can tell your husband to call you.
But you learn your husband is on the wrong field. And they can't call him, because he doesn't have a phone. Which you already know. But they're locating him.
Your friend takes you to the field. And then barefoot, sweating, in a crumpled dress, with your hair twisted in a knot, you walk up to the fence where The Husband meets you with a house key. At which point all the parents get a free ticket to what I'll call accusatory improvisation:
"Why don't you have your phone?" I snarl.
"Why are you locked out of your car?" he snips.
"Why are you on the wrong field?" I snort.
"Why do you look like you just woke up from prom?" he spits.
And then back to your house to get your spare car key only to find... it's not there. And then you cry. And your 4-year-old asks if he can go eat with the neighbors. And then live there.
And then The Husband gets home and you pretend you don't see him. He mumbles something about how you drove off that morning with the baseball stuff. And then it hits you - he took your spare key, drove to the church, took the stuff from your car, then LOCKED your car door.
Now does this ever happen to you? No?