Last night the ToolMaster switched cars with me so he could take the larger vehicle to Scouts. He was teaching the fine art of axery, and needed a stack of wood and a leg guard for the kids. Fortunately he took the latter. (Despite his instruction, four kids struck the barrier with enough force to do harm.) Unfortunately, he left the car in the driveway, locked but with the window rolled down.
I was in a rush, peeps. I needed to get to the bank, then to a community league halfway across town to purchase tickets for a non-negotiable event, and I had less than an hour to do so. That’s probably why I reached through the window without thinking.
Oy. Alarm city. Wouldn’t be a problem, except the keyless portion of my fob stopped working a few months ago and I hadn’t wanted to pay the $100 for a new one when I could “just use the key manually. After all, that’s been perfectly adequate for humans for the last forty years, so it’s good enough for me.”
Ten minutes later, after my cheeks had faded to the color of tomato sauce, and after my neighbor disconnected the car’s battery, I could breathe again.
I’ve told you this story:
a). Because it has a happy ending. My neighbors loaned me their vehicle. I got the tickets. My daughter won’t vow eternal vengeance.
b). To soften you up for a request. Jen K. Blom — she of the MG stories of the possumed variety — is looking for middle school tales of embarrassment. I don’t have any to offer. Either therapy worked, or my junior high experiences were so traumatic, they’ve been locked out of accessible memory. (Hope they’re smarter than me, and fork over the $100 😉 ) However, if you have any stories you think she’d enjoy, please go to the hyperlink attached to her name.
Other than that, I got nothin’ except a fun video. This one’s courtesy of Dee Garretson, another demanding, insatiable, fine MG writer. (True statement, even if she doesn’t employ possums in her fiction.)
Doh! I almost forgot the customary “About You” section of my blog. Do any of you have any fun, locked-out-of stories? Not of the middle school variety, because those, of course, need to be written on Jen’s blog.)