Have you ever done something so stupid you’ve shocked yourself by the depths of your own idiocy? Oh, it’s happened to me. And here is how:
One dreary, light deprived night I was minding my own business, doing my laundry after the kids had gone to bed (key element). I was happy to have my nieces spending the night. The kids, I should say teens so I don’t eternally offend them, had been rough-housing and playing all night. They’d even locked each other out of the house. Of course, I had to put a stop to that behavior no matter how funny the look on the ousted teen’s face.
My laundry room is out in the garage. Though the room itself is heated, you can imagine the garage isn’t. I listened to the rain spatter against the window as I folded warm clothes fresh from the hot dryer. I was in my little world plotting the demise of some character or other, not hurting a soul. I hurried to get the next load shoved as full as I could into the front loading wash so I could get back to my writing. Then I rushed up the stairs to the kitchen door. The handle wouldn’t turn, causing me to almost bump my nose as I thought I’d make one seamless move through it. It didn’t budge.
How’d it get locked? Then the horror hit (Scary music screeching). It was raining. Cold wind was whipping stuff around outside. I was locked out, probably from the locking fiasco I so recklessly laughed about earlier. With a house full of sleeping kids. NO one to hear my pleas to get in. See, in most houses enough knocking would wake anyone, but not in our very sound proof house.
I tried anyway, pounding with my fist. Nobody came.
I looked at the garage door. I’d have to make a run for the back door, bare-footed, IN THE COLD RAIN. I could run down to the basement back door on the far side of the house. But again no shoes. I had to try the back door first.
After pulling off my socks, I touched the cold floor with my toes. There was no time like the present. Off I shot over the wet ground. I skipped a step on my way up the stoop to the door and banged and banged on that door.
To my surprise, one of my son’s showed up after two minutes or so. I thanked him profusely. I couldn’t believe he heard me.
Then I hurried to the kitchen door to unlock it and grab the clean clothes I’d just folded.
I stopped dead in my tracks, turned and stared to my right. How in the world had I forgotten about the gigantic shoe rack at the top of the stairs where I’d been standing? Boots, sneakers, you name it, were there where they’d always been since the week we’d moved into the house. I missed the umbrella just to my left at the top of the stairs, too. DUH!!!!!!!
I braved the wilds of a storm, cold, wet and barefooted when I didn’t have to. There’s an applicable Bible lesson in there somewhere.
So there’s my story of sheer idiocy. Tune in next time for more ridiculous antics as they happen to me.