humble pie for breakfast

Its 5:00 am and entirely too quiet, too dark, and too cold for the madness that is me getting up to go for a wog (walk/jog) this morning. The argument in my head was of the classic angel vs devil variety.

My Head: Its a new day! Go wog. You’ll be glad you did.
My Bed: Its soooo warm and cozy in here, isn’t it?
My Head: Shut up. Don’t encourage her to be a lazy, albeit well rested, chunky butt.
My Bed: You could get an hours extra sleep if you stay. Sleep is important for overall well-being and happiness.
My Head: Hey, Procrastinator Polly. I know you, if you don’t do it now, you won’t do it at all.
My Bed: You can just do it after work. The snooze button is your friend.

I finally shut them both down with a brisk “don’t think, just do” mantra and went outside, purposely leaving the side door unlocked so I could get back in.

It was cold this morning y’all. (Hush, Northerners, I hear you laughing at my aversion to getting out in balmy 30 degree temps.) But I readied my ear-buds, got my app started, and set out in a most zombie-like fashion. It wasn’t pretty but it was done.

My Head: Now, to get a shower, get the kiddo ready and delivered to school. I’m actually ahead of schedule so I bet I can make a quick grocery run after dropping her off and even get to work early. I WILL WIN MONDAY, YES I WILL!

Cue LOCKED DOOR.

No worries, the lights are on. The family is obviously awake since all lights were off when I left. I’ll just knock calmly and someone will let me in.

Crickets.

No biggie, they are probably just making breakfast and can’t hear me. I’ll just knock a bit louder.

Even quieter crickets.

The only family member who comes to the door is the one without useful thumbs…the dog.

Which brings to mind the reason that I am probably locked out. I deduce that The Accountant let the dog out to pee and out of habit, locked the door when he let pup back in. An honest mistake, although an irritable one since I had texted him to tell him I was going for a morning walk/jog.

Its cool, I’ll just try knocking LOUDLY on another door.

Silence.

By now my acquired body heat from the morning’s activity has worn off and I am getting cold. And quite angry because I have since realized that The Accountant is probably partaking in a nice warm shower and can’t hear me at all, and kiddo has been taught to never open the door to anyone if mom and dad are not around. Especially not to stark-raving mad lunatics who are banging at the back doors at 5:45 in the morning.

I now begin texting The Accountant…

Semi-Reasonable Finn: Dude, I’m locked out.

I move to the front door and ring the doorbell over and over again like a complete psycho.

Furious texting ensues…

Less-Reasonable Finn: #%$&@! THAT’S IT! I’M NEVER MAKING YOU POPCORN AGAIN! @ %&#@*! DO NOT SPEAK TO ME FOR 24 HOURS, AT LEAST! @&%$!*!

Are they even in there???

Completely Lost Her Mind Finn Who Is Convinced She Is Going To Freeze To Death While Wearing A Sweaty Turned Clammy Sports Bra And Mismatched Running Socks: @ %&#@!*! You are in the shower aren’t you!?!?!? @#%&$ HOW DARE YOU BE TAKING A SHOWER WHILE THE WOMAN WHO BIRTHED YOUR ONLY DAUGHTER IS OUT HERE FREEZING HER ASS OFF BECAUSE YOU LOCKED HER OUT!!!! @&%$!*! @&%$!*! @&%$!*! HOW.DARE.YOU!!!!

As I’m peering in through the window pane in between repeated mad ringing of the doorbell, I see a stark naked kiddo with a huge striped beach towel wrapped on top of her head cautiously peering around the corner. SALVATION! “Its ok, its mommy, its ok, its just mommy!” I yell at her. She tentatively approaches, unlocks the door and gives me a wary stare. I immediately worry that I’ve scared the poop out of her with all my banging and ringing and carrying on but she seems unscarred and only in need of minor therapy later in life. I explain to her that daddy locked me out and thank her for rescuing me from certain death on the mean streets of a suburban subdivision.

Then I get THE text, accompanied by mental divorce papers.

“I didn’t touch the door.”

You all know how this ends, right?

Sheepish Mommy: Kiddo, did you let the dog out?

Kiddo (looking dubious): Yeeeeeees?

Sheepish Mommy: And did you let him back in and then lock the door?

Kiddo (now looking around desperately for escape routes): Yeeeees?

Guilt-ridden Mommy: Its ok. You did exactly like you’re supposed to. Lock the door when you let the dog in and out, and do not ever open the door when mommy and daddy aren’t here. Mommy just thought your father locked me out and I got a little…antsy. Ahem.

The Accountant enters and Awkward Damage Control Wife appears, apologetic and embarrassed. The grovelling was not pretty but it was absolutely necessary after my legendary fit.

Suffice it to say, this wasn’t the best morning for positive spousal relations. You know what they say about assuming.

The Accountant and I have since repaired the damage to our relationship for the most part, although I am doomed to be reminded of these events until the day I die. But at least I won’t die of hypothermia because I plan to take a house key with me from now on.

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