When I go out in the yard with the dogs I almost always grab the cordless phone and the spiral wrist band that holds the keys to the house. Especially in the summer, sometimes I walk to my parents’ house to say hi if I know they are around…so I have to lock the door in case I leave my yard. It’s habit to grab both things and today I am ever so glad to be in that habit.
It’s sunny and lovely and I spent twenty minutes on the floor petting the dogs. So I decided to get them outside to try to let Butthead run around for a while. Otherwise she gets really restless and antsy in the house…besides, it’s so pretty out I figured I’d do some good with a little sunshine and fresh air (achoo!). So out we go and I grab keys and phone on the way. The dogs go trotting out toward our fence, tails up, heads up, sniffing the air and looking happy to be free. Le Moo wanders only briefly, then finds herself a nice spot and plops down to survey, well, everything. Butthead is more active, so she walks around more, sniffing and looking and stuff. I pet Le Moo for a minute or two, then kick the ball for Butthead…who gives chase and tries to bring it back to me. But it’s almost soccer ball size, so she trips over it more than carries it, and gives up about three quarters of the way back to me. So I talk her into playing with this green foam fake stick thing that we bought so she’d stop eating all the sticks in our yard. She likes it a lot and will chase it if you throw it. Sometimes she’ll just keep it in her mouth and wait for you to chase her…that’s her favorite game. So I grab the stick out of her mouth and sort of wave it around until she gets worked up, then I throw it. And as I’m releasing it from my hand, I feel the stretchy coil thingy around my wrist sliding upward, upward….and OFF MY WRIST. It has about five keys on it (for various houses and locks) so it’s a tad heavy. I cover my head with my arms and try to protect myself from being konked on the head or on my face. I vaguely hear the keys jingle as they land and then I drop my hands and look around.
Shit, Hub hasn’t mowed the yard in just over a week and we had that horrible rainstorm with 7″ of rain over 2 1/2 days…the grass is high, ya’ll. The wristband thing is black. I had no idea where the keys landed because I had my head covered and my eyes shut. I’m sca-rewed. I start pacing along the yard where I had been standing to see if I can find the keys. No luck. And, of course, I suddenly have to pee.
Lost keys, house locked, have to pee. Did I also mention that we lock the gates on our yard so no one can get in and/or open the gates and let the dogs out? Guess where that key is for the gate? On the wristband. I can’t get out of the backyard. I can’t get into the house. I have to pee.
Luckily for me, I have the cordless phone in my pocket. I call my parents’ house and my mom answers. She’s been spending the day doing pre-op preparations (which means not being too far away from a bathroom) and can’t leave the house. But she answers the phone and I ask if my brother is home. I figure he can walk over and help me find the keys, but he’s not home yet. I loathe to tell her that I have to pee, so I just ask her to send my father over when she sees him and she says she will, then hangs up. So I’m pacing the yard like those police recruits do when they’re searching for evidence. Straight line, from one end of the area to the other, turn and double-back. Nothing. Dogs are now panting and looking at me like it’s time to go inside. My bladder is definitely telling me it’s time to go inside. Then I spot my dad heading up my driveway and I go to the gate to wave…
Something shiny catches my eye.
My keys (and wristband) are sitting about six feet on the other side of the gate. The locked gate that I can’t get out of because the key is on my wristband…on the other side of the gate. How the hell the keys flew up in the air and at least ten feet away (I was not standing that close to the gate when the keys flew off my wrist) I have no idea. I point at the keys and my father scoops them up for me and hands them over (he’s also carrying the spare key to my house in his other hand, just in case we couldn’t find my keys). I explain (with gesticulations) what happened and he laughs. We talk briefly about how Mom is doing with her pre-op prep, then he tells me about some TV show he was watching when I called (detection dogs in Russia?). We confirm timing for the morning to leave for the hospital, then he walks off with a wave.
I rush to the back door, one dog following me and the other hiding in the shade, and let myself into the house. I barely stop to toss Butthead a treat and run into the bathroom.
My afternoon. FUN TIMES.