One More Thing to Hold Against Me...

Today was kind of a horrible day. In a funny way, though. Sort of.

Lola had to get her four month shots. Reece, the official shot parent, couldn't get work off. Or so he said.

So being the absolute wuss that I am, I dragged my darling, sweet, patient, saintly mother-in-law to the doctor's office with us to hold my hand as the nurse stuck my baby in the legs.

After a few screams unrivaled by an eagle, Lola fell asleep, making for a pleasant ride home. I hauled her up the stairs to our apartment and realized I left a bottle in Grandma's car. Grandma, being the kind woman she is, went to grab it for me.

This is where things get really ridiculous.

I thought I would meet her halfway, to grab the bottle. Because really, who wants to climb any set of stairs twice? So I stepped out, turned the lock to the unlock position (or so I thought), grabbed the bottle and bid her farewell.

I reached for the doorknob and gave it a turn, only to find it would not turn. I desperately gave the door my best shove, but to my dismay, it just shoved back.

That's right folks. I locked myself out. In 22 degree weather. Without my cell phone.

WITH MY BABY INSIDE.

Luckily my mother-in-law hadn't driven away yet, and she once again came to my rescue. I frantically called Reece to explain the dire situation I found myself in. You know what he did?

He laughed.

LAUGHED.

I suppose his reaction was to be expected. After all, this is the third time I have locked myself out of this apartment. The first time I was in nothing but a bathrobe, the second time I was in my pajamas.

I begged him to come home. "What if the cats eat her?" I cried. "What if she chokes on her spit?" "What if the Christmas tree falls on top of her?"

Poor guy. He really should have reevaluated his decision to marry a crazy person.

My wonderful mother-in-law stayed with me while I hopped onto our porch, broke out a screen, pounded on the door, yelled instructions to the cats and nearly threw my body through a window. She gave me a blanket, helped me to laugh about the situation and offered to take this picture for the inevitable blog post:



When the cold became too much to bear, we jumped in the car and ran up to check on my sleeping child every few minutes. Reece pulled in about 30 minutes later, rolled his eyes at me and ran up to our door without a word.

Of course Lola chooses that exact moment to start screaming.

I'm pretty sure I'll be forced to pay for the therapy she'll need to get over this one. I'm not sure my husband will ever leave me alone with her again.