Saturday, June 23, 2007

Locked Out

On Sunday, I walked up the stairs of our apartment, only to notice all of my neighbours standing outside, crowded around their door: the parents, the 3 children, and the grandpa. This is odd enough, but when you add to the picture that they had dismantled the door frame and had a credit card stuck in the door jam, it was even more odd.

They had left dinner in the oven while they "ran over" to grandpa's house to deliver something (it was Father's day after all). He's in our stake, so they didn't think it would take too long, and it didn't, until they realized that no one had grabbed their keys.

"You wouldn't happen to have a hammer?" the grandpa guffawed, while trying to force the credit card to unlock the door. It broke.

"I've used the credit card trick before, but it's not working..."

I went inside and had Andrew get them a hammer. They then started, literally, to hammer off the doorknob. I think it took them a good hour or so to break into their house. Amateurs! We were merely accomplices, but took great comfort in knowing how hard it is to break into these apartments. Whoever made the locks wasn't kidding around.

"The next time you're locked out, we'll lend you the hammer," joked our neighbor.

"Our parents have a spare key," we said...we had used it before last year when we locked ourselves out.

"That's not a bad idea," said our neighbour.

Well...yesterday we left to go shopping (at around 9 pm). Uncharacteristically, I grabbed my purse and we left the house. (I have started leaving my purse at home when we go to multiple locations because I have a tendency to forget it and leave it someplace: in the car, at the check out counter...pretty much anywhere).

We all know that my job when we leave the house is to lock the bottom lock and then Andrew, since he usually has his keys out to start the car, will lock the dead bolt. Well, we stepped out of the house, I locked the bottom lock and closed the door and then stood there waiting for Andrew to lock the dead bolt.

"Aren't you going to lock the door?" I asked after a few seconds.

Andrew didn't say anything but took a few seconds to dig around in his pockets, looking sheepish. Finally he spoke,

"Good thing you have your purse this time!"

It was then my turn to dig around in my purse. My search turned up nothing--my keys were in my other bag.

Just as we were both fumbling through our pockets/purse, our neighbour walked out to take out his trash. He looked at us and smiled,

"Need a hammer?" he asked.

We called Andrew's parents who gladly brought the key over (and made great fun of Andrew).

When I was younger I was the key-in-charge person, even when I was in kindergarten and my older siblings were...well, obviously not in kindergarten because they were older. That would put them in grades 2 and 6, I believe. My mom would tie the key to a hair ribbon and then tie the ribbon to one of the zippers of my backpack and then she would zip the pocket up and put the key inside. That way, if I had my backpack, I had a house key, and it is a whole lot easier to remember a backpack than a key. So for years I was the key-in-charge person because my siblings somehow managed to lose or forget their keys no matter what mom did.

I have so many keys on my key chain right now and I use them for so many different purposes, that tying a hair ribbon to my purse really wouldn't work (plus, we've already discussed how I constantly misplace my purse).

I think that after I have the baby and quit my job and my keys are reduced to just a house key (and car key and mail box key) that I will have to tie the key to a hair ribbon and then around the baby's ankle or something. It' s much easier to remember a baby than to remember a key... But then, there was the time that Mom locked Patrick, and the keys, and the groceries in the car, so perhaps that's not a great idea either.

I suppose the best solution is just to leave a spare key with someone you trust, who, although will ruthlessly tease you about it, will bring the key to you in your time of need. Of course, I didn't get teased because I'm pregnant--so just Andrew got teased and there isn't a whole lot we can do to help that, is there?

1 comment:

  1. Man, they hammered their door knob off! Daniel is officially in charge of always having his keys when we go out together. I get the nifty job of asking him if he has his keys...and I have been pretty good at that.

    But, I am so forgetful with things like keys and stuff. I always forget. The same thing goes with my wallet and overdue library books....but I am getting better!

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