Saturday, as some of you know, was a busy day for me. I had errands to run, I was seeing Cary Elwes speak after a special viewing of the world's greatest movie "The Princess Bride" and I had a wedding to go to. (Cary was magnificent, watching the movie with a few hundred other people who laughed in all the right spots, recited the lines correctly, and cheered and booed along with the movie was a big treat! Hanging with a couple girlfriends was the Cool Whip on top of the pecan pie!)
But this blog isn't about my lovely evening spent enjoying my favorite movie. Nope, it's about the wedding I went to...and what happened before and after said wedding.
See, the wedding was almost two hours away, so we knew that driving back home in time for me to be ready to get picked up for Cary Elwes was going to be tight. Plus Hubby was going to sing in the choir during our church's Saturday service which started at 5.
The wedding was 2 and by the time we got home Hubby had to basically drop me and go to get to church before the service started. I had no house keys, but that's never a problem at our house because we have a garage code and we never lock the house door inside the garage.
Repeat: We NEVER lock the garage door in the house.
In the ten years we've been at that address, I believe we locked the door once, and that ended in someone, probably Skippy, getting locked out and having to use the neighbor's bathroom, which was uncomfortable for the person locked out as well as the neighbors. (Let's just say it was one of those bathroom uses that leaves an impression.) The four of us swore we'd never again lock that door.
I had about twelve minutes to get in the house, freshen my make up (Because we were in the 18th row and YOU NEVER KNOW, we had an extra seat, one of my friends couldn't make it, and I did put on Twitter that Cary should sit with us. You don't put out an invitation like that and then NOT touch up the make up.) In that time I also really had to use the loo.
BUT...the door. The. Door. Was. LOCKED.
I have no key. Hubby is in church, Skippy is at work. So I call Peaches who was out and about with Junior, who was up for a visit. Peaches is a good child. She answers her phone when I call, she doesn't just let it go to voice mail...
I calmly explained to her the issue and she began apologizing profusely. See, she's just come home to live after living in the St. Louis area for five months. I don't know what kind of hardened criminal activity she was seeing in the mean streets of the St. Louis suburbs, but she was all about locking all the doors.
No problem, she said, she'd run home and unlock the door for me.
They estimated they'd be to the house "shortly." Knowing where they were, I estimated eight minutes. Which gave me about four minutes to do all the Cary prep I had to do. Oh and also I really had to use the loo.
Peaches and Junior get back to the house and Peaches says, "Fun fact, I don't have a key."
They'd been in Junior's car all day and Junior doesn't have a key for our house on his ring.
I might have to give the boy a key.
So there we are, all locked out and I now have about four minutes to reconstruct myself into something Cary Elwes would like to have maybe have lunch with on the outside chance he sits in our extra seat and decides I'm funny, cute, and cool enough to take to lunch. (Yes, the middle aged woman's fantasy. It's not silk sheets or walks on the beach. Nope, that's for the twenty-somethings. Now I want a good lunch so I'm home in plenty of time for "The Voice.")
We have two options: 1) Send Peaches to church to get her father's key or 2) Break into the house via the patio door.
Well, the more fun route is to break in to the house. And also, I wasn't thinking clearly. Did I mention I really had to USE THE LOO?
I'm not going to tell you how we did it. Let's just say I'm glad we keep the patio door propped open so the cats can go in and out of the back screened in porch when we're not home. The door is only open about five inches, but Junior and Peaches, both being slender, figured out a way to get into the house so that I had roughly forty seconds to prepare for what had now (in my head) become the ultimate dream date with Cary Elwes.
Actually, now that I think about it, I'm a little nervous that it didn't take those two all that long to break into my house...
But, Sarah, you promised us something about crotchless sweatpants!
I know, I know, don't worry, I didn't forget.
We got to the wedding VERY EARLY on Saturday (not knowing exactly just how long it would take us to find the place. Sure, we had Google Maps and whatnot, but you still have to allow for a wrong turn, construction, or lack of parking. So we got there really early. We had time to walk around, enjoy a street fair nearby and do a little talking.
I was wearing a skirt. I don't wear skirts all that often and I almost never wear dresses. I don't have a dress that fits me right. Given the size of my gut at the moment, the best fit I've been able to find in a dress is by dress makers named "Oh what a blessing" and "Here comes the stork." So I have a couple skirts I wear on the rare occasion that I have to look more dressed up than my black pants. Weddings fall into that category.
Still, it wasn't a dress, and I wasn't wearing heels. (Those have officially gone by by now that I need foot surgery. )
I expressed to Hubby how I felt under dressed. He said, "But you're wearing a skirt."
I said, "It's jersey material. I'm basically wearing sweatpants with the legs cut out."
He said, "Ah, so crotchless sweatpants."
And then we laughed.
It's moments like that when I know I've got my soul mate.
As for Cary Elwes, the evening was tops. He's a great guy. And if you have no idea what the "Princess Bride" is, I suggest you find it and watch it right now.
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