Any other day would have been fine. We could have gone to the park. I could have sat in a chair in our backyard while Lily and Emmy played in the sandbox. Or we could have taken a nice, long walk around the neighborhood.
This Spring has been wonderfully warm and sunny. I planted my flower bed before Mother’s Day (unheard of in Northern Illinois) and there was no hint that frost would hurt my little garden.
But naturally, I chose the coldest and rainiest day in Spring.
The word “chose” implies that I planned it, or that I was aware of what was going to happen. That I wanted it it happen. Which would be a wrong assumption.
Emmy and I were in a rush, as usual. I was grabbing for a raincoat and umbrella, trying to get Emmy to put on normal shoes and not flip flops. There had been a steady drizzle from the sky all day long, and it barely reached 60 degrees, if that. We were just going to walk down the block to pick up Lily from school and hurry back. Playing at the playground after school wasn’t even going to be an option, so I left all the lights on.
I never drive to pick up Lily; it just seems silly when we live so close to the school. But it would have saved us if I had.
When we got back to the house, Lily was having trouble with the door. “Twist the handle harder and PUSH!” I said. Our front door sticks somewhat.
“It’s not turning, Mom!” Lily exclaimed.
I froze…had I finally done it?
I checked the doorknob. Yes, I had. I had locked us out.
I suppose it could have been worse. It could have been snowing. Or it could have been thundering and lightning.
As it was, we crossed the street to our neighbors house (we literally ran out of the house without taking anything, even my cell phone) and rang the doorbell. No one was home. We tried the next neighbor, and their daughter, home from college, answered. Yay! I called Ed at work, and he came home to rescue us. It took him about half an hour to get home, and the girls have never been so happy to see him!
At least I’m able to blog about it.