You know, I don’t spend enough time with the neighbors. I have perfectly lovely neighbors, but it seems we are so busy with our lives that we just neglect the neighbors.
Well, this week, I was able to spend a little quality time with one of my neighbors, but in order to tell you about that, I have to tell you about the rest of that day.
Roy and I had decided that after I got off work, we would go to a ball game in Huron. I was supposed to either catch a ride with someone at my work to Huron and meet Roy at the game, or I was supposed to call him and let him know that he needed to pick me up on the way. Fairly simple, right?
Well, unfortunately, it turned out that the only thing simple about it was me. I decided when my ride for work got there that I would just come back home right away and then I would surprise Roy by being here, waiting for him to get off work and we could then go to Huron together. I didn’t bother to call and tell him, because of course, I was going to be at home when he got off work.
So now, what we have here, is a failure to communicate. I failed to communicate that I was coming home before the game and therefore Roy couldn’t communicate to me that I should be certain I had a house key.
My ride dropped me off and I went up the steps to the front door. The door was locked. That’s when it hit me. I did not have my key to the front door with me and I did not have a vehicle with a garage door opener to get in the other way. Of course Roy had locked the house up when he went to work and so I was effectively locked out.
And it just got worse from there. I tried every door and window that I could reach and the only comfort I could take from my failure to get in is that apparently no one else can, either. My key was hanging on the key holder right inside the front door (almost within my sight at the door), but then I remembered that we used to have a key secreted outside of the house somewhere (I didn’t really remember where, because up to now, I’ve always had my key when I needed it). I dug around under the deck, under the steps, under the trees—you name it, I dug in the mud and snow there. There was no key because I discovered later that Roy had removed it because, of course, we never needed it.
So there I was, running around my yard in the middle of January, praying that no police officer drove by while I was rattling doors and windows and throwing a temper tantrum. No one saw me, however, unless you count the cat and the dog inside the house watching me with their noses pressed against the glass of the sliding doors…that I had just cleaned.
I knew that most of the neighbors were at work, so no help there. For the first time ever, I cursed the fact that I proudly do not carry a cell phone, so I couldn’t even call Roy to come help. We have new neighbors to the back of us, but I thought that might make a terrible first impression if I knocked on their door to inform them that I had neither a cell phone nor a key to my house. Wouldn’t that have made them wonder how often I have a crisis?
Fortunately, while I was standing ankle-deep in slushy snow, one of the neighbors came home who is more accustomed to living next to the “weird neighbor.” That’s where the spending time with the neighbors comes in. I got to use his phone and at the same time, I got to have a nice conversation. He told me about celebrating his birthday and I told him about my failure to communicate properly with my husband and therefore locking myself out of my house.
Roy was able to come and rescue me and I have now put a key permanently in my purse. That way the next time something like this happens, I still won’t have a telephone, but I’ll be able to unlock the door under my own power.
A failure to communicate