And not on purpose...although some days that feels like a completely viable alternative. Yesterday, I committed the ultimate parenting folly and locked my keys AND my kids (the power of "and" is also applicable in my personal life, apparently) in the car in a grocery store parking lot...in the middle of a rain band from Tropical Storm Debby.
This whole comedy of errors began because I needed a gallon of milk. Not just a regular gallon of milk that I could swing in and get at a gas station, but a gallon of organic milk. If I hadn't gone all crunchy granola mom lately, I could have pulled into the gas station at the corner, locked my kids in the car PURPOSEFULLY (I know, I know...another award-winning move) and ran in to get a gallon of milk. We would have drove home, most likely unharmed and rather dry (barring there wasn't anyone waiting to steal a car in the pouring rain at Enmark) and sweet L&Ms thirst would have been quenched without wreaking havoc in our (my) life.
But when I weighed the risks of giving L&M regular milk versus making the trek for organic milk, it just sounded too tragic (please read my sarcasm here...these children were consuming regular milk from Hogly Wogly's and Piggly Wiggly's all over the state of Georgia from months 12-24.)
So, I decided to huff it to the closest grocery store and put myself through the hell of taking two toddlers out in the rain, in order to get my beloved organic milk. Like Tom Brady on a Sunday morning, I ran the play in my head over and over again. Once I pulled into the parking lot and was mentally prepared (I know this is a dramatic term for "ready," but if you've ever carried two 28 pound children in the pouring rain, while sprinting, you'd feel me here.) I hustled out of the driver's side, scooped up Maisen and the umbrella, and then dodged over to the other side of the car to pick up Laiten and haul rear to the front of the store. I'm no Lolo Jones, but we made it unscathed and somewhat dry.
The journey to the milk cooler went unbelievably smooth; the girls held hands and we marched through the store like we were the most well-behaved family in the neighborhood. On the way out, I noticed that the rain was really coming down, like those ridiculous sidewinding sheets of rain. So, I put the girls and the milk in a cart and wheeled everyone out to the car under the umbrella. The thought even crossed my mind as I ran in the rain, that I was really proud of myself for pulling this off. (Insert: devil laugh.) I quickly opened the back hatch of our SUV, throwing L&M in the back, along with the milk...and my keys. By the time I shut the hatch and made it to the driver's side, my stomach sunk to my kneecaps. I did a loop of the car just to confirm my fear - all. doors. locked.
As the rain pelted me in the face (I had abandoned the umbrella in a panic), I calmly yelled to the girls to get mommy's keys and press the buttons. It actually sounded more like, "Yey - press the buttons! Let Mommy in the car! Whoa boy...it sure is raining hard out here and Mommy wants to be inside with you!!" Laiten grabbed the keys and pressed the lock button at least 250 times. Each time the horn blasted as her sweet little fingers smashed the button, I could feel my famous nervous laughter creeping up through my chest. Most passersby were giving me the "Lord-Knows-We've-All-Been-There" sympathy glance...with the exception of one woman who felt compelled to give me the look of death. Old hag.
Trying to shut out the other shoppers in the parking lot, I continued begging the girls to unlock the car, to no avail. By this time, they had moved to the driver and passenger seats, figured out how to put their seat belts on (riddle me that...figured out seat belts, but not the door locks?) and were putting a hurtin' on two packs of chewing gum and a tube of Chapstick they uncovered in my console. I had to turn my back after Maisen popped the fifth piece of gum into her mouth so that I could laugh until I cried. It was time to throw in the towel and call Eddie.
I said a prayer while I darted into the store to call Eddie (yes, my cell phone - also in said locked car) and tell him what I had gotten myself into. He did his best to not laugh me off the phone and said he'd be right there. By the time I got back out to the car, the girls had the hazard lights on (how appropriate) and I decided I would just grin and bear it until Eddie arrived with my spare keys.
Five minutes later, we were unlocked...I was soaked to the bone, the girls were covered in gum and Chapstick, and Eddie was laughing at me like he'd waited his whole life to witness such debauchery on my part. And while I've taken a rather humorous approach to looking at this entire incident, I realize it could have been tragic. Had it been a normal June afternoon in Savannah, the temperatures would have been sweltering and I would have been in straight meltdown panic mode (and yes, mom...I would have called the Fire Department.) Thankfully, the Lord must have felt like teaching me a lesson without making me suffer too badly.
So, all of that to say, when you see me strutting around Savannah in my new phone/key-holding fanny pack - don't hate.
This is so awesome!!
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