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Due to the horrid flu that has recently made the rounds through my house, I'm currently short on blogging material. Instead, let me share this incident which occurred a few weeks ago when leaving Rebecca's gymnastics lesson:
It actually started on the way into the lesson. We were running 1 minute late, as usual, and as we ran across the parking lot I casually pointed my key ring toward my unique, gold, 2006 Toyota Sienna and hit the lock button. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the parking lights flare, and I also barely noted to myself the little, black, plastic lock button made a weird clicking sound when I pushed it.
Fast forward an hour. Rebecca and I are back out in the parking lot, gymnastics lesson complete. We arrive at the gold Sienna, and I push the unlock button on my controller. Nothing. I try door handle. Nothing. It's locked.
'Uh oh', I think, 'Maybe I broke the controller, or the battery is dead'. Suddenly, that weird clicking sound the controller made becomes the center of my awareness. I hit the unlock button again. Nothing. I decided I better do it the old-fashioned way, and use the regular key. I stick it in the lock, and try to turn it. Nothing. I try to turn it harder. Still nothing. This is more serious than I thought.
I go around back and try the trunk door. Nothing. I try to use the key on the passenger side door. Nothing. I blindly panic and start randomly pushing buttons on the controller. Nothing. The whole time Rebecca is telling me in a loud, high pitched voice that she is cold and hungry.
I pull out my phone to call Greg. While dialing, Rebecca says 'let me try' and reaches for the keys. I absently hand them to her so she'll be occupied while I try to think of what I'm going to tell Greg. He answers his phone.
Greg: 'Hi Honey.'
Me: 'Hey, um how was your day?'
Greg: 'Fine, what's up?'
Me: 'Where are you?'
Greg: 'Passing the Big Y' (about 1 minute from home, and about 20 minutes from the gym). I notice out of the corner of my eye Rebecca doing something with the keys and the van door. I decide not to worry about it. It's not like she can break a lock that's already broken, right?
Me: 'We're at the Sterling gym. I can't get the van open.'
Greg: 'What do you mean you can't get the van open?'
Me: 'The clicker doesn't do anything when I push the buttons, I think it's broken.'
Greg: 'Did you try the key?'
Me: 'Yes, it didn't work either. It's really broken.'
Greg: 'Oh no. Do this. Go around back, and see if it works on the back door.'
As I'm getting ready to tell him I already tried that, I notice an older lady striding across parking lot yelling in my direction.
Me: 'I'll call you back'. I flip my phone shut quickly and instinctively grab my keys from Rebecca so this crazy lady doesn't see I'm letting my 6 year old attempt to manually turn my key in a non-working lock.
Lady: 'That's my car - your car is over there.' She points toward the center of the parking lot. 'It's wide open'.
Me: Laughing lamely as the light finally dawns in one blazing second. 'Oh - I can't believe I did that!'
Lady: Glares at me, both her kids are staring at us in amazement. 'This is my car.'
Me: Feeling mortified, the only thing I have to add is the inanely lame 'We have the same car.'
Lady: 'Your car is wide open. It's over there.' She's really pissed!
Me: My fight or flight instinct kicks in. While hurriedly fleeing toward my car, I mutter a lame 'Thanks.' I see my van. The automatic side door is wide open thanks to my earlier button pushing frenzy. I try to give Rebecca as short an explanation as possible about what just happened. I glance back over my shoulder -
