Breaking and Entering...

I managed to lock myself (and my 5mo old son) out of the house last night.

He was asleep in the car seat, so I tote to the house all the mom-shit that one suddenly has to carry with her once she's given birth, dropped it inside the door and ran back to get the kid. He's asleep on my shoulder as hand grasps the screen door handle and tugs... ineffectively. WTF?

Dang door's lock managed to slip down and lock somehow, leaving me and sleeping rugrat outside... and keys, cellphone, purse, DIAPER BAG inside.

As I sit on the porch steps, ready to rant or cry (silently so as not to wake the baby) I think, surely the husband will be home soon. I wait. Foot taps. Kid stirs. Pat the baby's back, he returns to sleep, thank you goddess! and wait. Hang on... is the back screen door even unlocked? What's the point of waiting for the husband if we can't even get in WITH keys? I go around to check. Sure enough, the back screen door is locked. DAMMIT. I really really hate being married to a wanna-be cop sometimes. I appreciate the desire for home security, but this shit's for the birds.

So I go back to the front door and jiggle the screen door handle some more. Then I slam on it with my fist. Ha. Damn thing is made better than I thought. I stare at the door some more. The window is up 2 inches. If I rip the screen at the bottom, I can get my fingers in there and raise the window enough for my hand to go in and unlock the door.

So, 10 minutes later I call the husband on the cell. "Where are you?"

"the mall... why?"

"buy some screen on the way home."