Do You Have Keys?

The other night the husband and I got locked out of our house.  When I just wrote that sentence I thought, "'got locked out of our house' sounds like someone shoved us out the door, and when we pleaded to be let back in, a crazy man, with a large janitor ring of keys ran to our window, and while jangling the keys, screamed, "NEVER!  YOU WILL NEVER ENTER THIS HOME AGAIN!" 

Okay, so let me rephrase my first sentence: The other night the husband and I thought the other one had a key to our house, and while neglecting to listen to each other ask, "Do you have a key?", closed the door, and then proceeded to mutter, and sort of shout, certain expletives over and over again while we both came to the sad conclusion, that we both lacked the super human power to walk through walls and retrieve our keys inside the house. Yeah, I think that covers it.

So, yes, this would be the fourth or fifth time of our short marriage, we have managed to lock ourselves out of our house.  Fortunately, this time our keys weren't down an elevator shaft after I threw them at my husband while we were racing to our apartment, and I thought I could buy some time with my keys gauging him in the eyes (because that never happened...)  Instead, like responsible repeated past offenders, we had finally wised up and given a key to my mother-in-law, who lives 20 minutes away.  Unfortunately, in the midst of our rage and frustration, I couldn't exactly remember if I had or had not given her a key.  I knew we had talked about it, and I know it was definitely one of my resolutions for 2012, to not get locked out of my apartment again, but I couldn't be sure.  So, until we could confirm the existence of the key, we started the: "Four Steps Of Being Locked Out Your House."  We began with step one: How Do You Break Into Your Own Home?  You know this fun game.  You all of the sudden become a stealth ninja walking around your house trying all the windows and doors. (All the while hoping your neighbors know you actually live there.)

And then you move to step two: I Wish My House Wasn't Fort Knox.  Immediately, you start wishing that a window was broken, a screen was loose, an animal had started burrowing a hole into your living room, or that you forgot to lock some back door. 

And then, when you realize you don't live in the projects, you start:  What Are My Options?  For example, do you call the locksmith on a Sunday, pay the ridiculous price to open your door, or do you take a rock and smash your own window, which could be possibly cheaper than calling the locksmith?  Do you scale up the roof and try to shimmy down the chimney?  Do you curse the fact that your house doesn't have a chimney?  Do you consider just walking away and finding this to be a moment of freedom from your possessions?  Do you tell yourself you'll just start living off the land, and not worry about keys, locks and conformity? 

And then finally, after you have weighed all your options, pulled and pushed on every window, you move onto the last step of turning to your spouse and asking: "So, seriously, do you have a key?"  This step if fun for everyone because you can keep going back to it during the whole process.  Try opening a window and then ask, "Come on, do you have a key?"  Or walk around the entire perimeter of your home, hoping you'll find a key some key fairy dropped by accident, and when you get back, turn to your bewildered spouse and ask, "Did you check your pockets?"  See?  Fun!

So, yes, we fortunately got a key from my mother-in-law...will this be the last time?  Why should it?  It's always so much fun!