A few weeks ago I wasn't thinking straight and I forgot to leave the door cracked when I took Sarah out for a walk. When I got back to the house I didn't know what to do. The door was not opening, and I was stuck outside with an increasingly impatient dog. Adam wasn't going to be home for hours, and I had left my cell phone inside. I started thinking of that scene in Beauty & the Beast where the angry villagers break down the castle door. And I thought, “I’m a Big Girl, I can so do that.” And yes I always use Disney movies to solve all my problems. What I meant to do was apply my weight to the center of the door while turning the knob. What I didn't mean to do was break the huge pane of glass in the center of the door into a million little pieces.
The glass shattering sounded like a sonic boom, and for several seconds all I could do was look on in absolute shock. Ultimately my problem was solved though; I could now get into my house. So after carrying Sarah uncomfortably across the threshold (had to protect my baby's precious paws), I called Adam. I immediately broke into tears, explained the situation, and kept saying, "I know we don't have any money right now, so please don't hate me!" He thought I was being a bit dramatic, which I don't get because I never blow things out of proportion.
We finally got the door fixed last week. It cost $125, which was a bummer because that could have been spent on something more practical, like 30 pairs of flip flops or 25 Chinese dinners (Oh the possibilities). The few weeks that we didn’t have the glass, we got used to sticking our hands through the empty pane to open the door (very safe, I know). The very night after we had gotten the door fixed, we went out, and Adam SHUT THE DOOR. When we discovered this, I didn’t know what we were going to do. So I started freaking out, because that is always helpful in situations like these. I truly thought we had no other option but to break the glass again on purpose.
Luckily, Adam is more level headed than me. While I am hyperventilating on the steps, predicting the end of the free world, he is jimmying the lock on the back gate. Finally he gets into the back yard, removes the ac unit, takes a flying 5 foot leap through the living room window, and scales over the couch. He was able to let me in, with no damage done to anything. And instead of wondering why my fiancé has the skills of a con, or worrying that my house is totally easy to break into, I was just relieved to make it inside in time to catch the latest Gossip Girl.
P.S-I have a really secure, locking screen door.