Something's Always Bound to Happen

My Handsome Man is out of town this week. I miss him like crazy.

Before he left, we decided to do some last minute yardwork. I decided to do something he really enjoys and wear an old pair of jeans and one of his t-shirts...and nothing else.

About halfway through our work day, we realized that we were going to need to go to Home Depot for some more supplies. My Handsome Man asked me to run inside and grab his car keys since he was caked from head to toe in dirt. I needed to put a bra on anyway. While I'm happy giving a nipple show to my husband, those girls are reserved for him and him alone. I wasn't concerned about putting on any panties. I knew he'd get a kick out of knowing I was still going commando.

I went inside, grabbed his car keys from near the bed, locked the doors, and hopped onto the porch. Just as I heard the door click behind me, I looked at My Handsome Man in sudden realization.

"You have the house keys, right?" At his blank look, I blurted out "You only asked me to get your car keys! Do you have the house key?"

Ooops.

My Handsome Man is usually so good with his keys. I'm always amazed when I see him get up in the morning: as soon as his pants are on, his wallet, keys, and cellphone go straight into his pockets. If I didn't keep everything in a Mary Poppins purse, I'd never know where anything was.

Well, there we were. Two dirt-smeared shovel-bearers. Locked out.

Money is tight, so calling a locksmith has to be a last-ditch effort. Why, oh why, is our spare key kept in a kitchen drawer?

I suddenly regretted making such a thorough run-through of the house a few minutes ago. If only I'd left a door or window open!

We walked around the house again to check, and our dirty sneakers danced with joy when we saw that our bedroom window had been closed but not locked. Hallelujah!

Problem #1: our bedroom window is 8 feet off the ground (it's above our bed, and there's a crawl-space under our house, elevating it a few more feet.)
Problem#2: we're relatively new to our neighborhood...what would the neighbors think?!?
Problem#3...didn't manifest until Handsome Man had hoisted me up into the open window and my jeans got caught on the sill.

So there I am, dangling 8 feet in the air, with my husband trying to push my toosh through a window, and my rear end hanging out for all to see. What was that concern about the neighbors? Sigh. And Handsome Man's tears of laughter at my predicament were not exactly the effect I was going for when I left the panties in the drawer today.

Sighhhhhh

Every story has a happy ending, though, and ours came after lots of soap-scrubbing and drip-drying. Man, I love that guy.