Joyriding Without Any Keys

When I arrived home from work today I discovered that it was pretty damn cold in our house so, of course, I broke out my new Uggs and my fingerless gloves, threw on an extra sweater and started surfing the Internet.  A girl has to catch up on the 500 or so posts in her Google Reader after all.  By the time B came home, I felt like an icicle.  I pronounced "it is COLD in here" and to prove my point I touched him with my ice cold fingertips.  Usually, B knows when fall has arrived because my nose turns ice cold. I am like his seasonal thermometer. Speaking of thermometers, he won't turn on the heat even if my nose and fingers are ice cold.  After all, the thermometer says 60 degrees. I have tried numerous times to explain that 60 degrees inside when it is 40 degrees outside feels different than 60 degrees inside when it is, I don't know, 80 degrees outside. B does not see the difference.  I know this.  So this time of year, I wear lots of sweaters, gloves and boots. That is how we stay in love.

A couple hours after arriving home, B decides he wants to go out driving in his brand new car. Yes, after pouring his money into little green, as I call it, about four times since December, he decided a new car was in order.  It is B's first ever new car as he always buys used.  He has not had a chance to drive it much since he brought it home so he decided to go for a little joyride and I went along.

After zipping around and practicing driving REALLY fast on highways and in residential areas and nearly getting creamed by some really old guy who braked every 10 seconds and then changed lanes suddenly, we finally headed home. About a block from the house, B says "you do have a house key don't you?" Um, no.  See, I left my house key...with my car key...at the house. I was not driving. B was driving.  B only brought THE key to the car. That's it.  B asks "well, did you lock the door?" Of course I locked the door!  It is night. We were leaving.  B asks "did you lock the balcony door?" Of course, I locked the balcony door. I don't want people breaking in. So now we have one car key, no house keys, and an open window on the second floor of a really tall building.

B scales the building like Spiderman (not like The Hulk) and determines that yes, indeed, the balcony door is locked.  Meanwhile, like some crazy MacGyver episode, I am trying to find something in my purse to insert into the doorknob lock because I am convinced if I insert something and rattle the doorknob, it will open. (How scary would that be if it were true?).  The car key is too fat. The pen is too short, the penny just doesn't even make sense. Why did I try the penny? B keeps asking if I "got it" as if anything I am doing has even the remotest chance of working.  God we are delusional.

B decides to go across to the neighbor's house in search of a better MacGyver or a ladder or something. I see him and the neighbor come out of the house and go across the street where they disappear for a LONG time. Meanwhile I am freezing (thank god for the gloves and multiple sweaters) and contemplate going back into the car where the heated seats are. Instead, to pass the time, I call my mom to tell her of my exciting weekend night.  We reminisce about all of the times that we had to go through the back window at my childhood home. Let me clear that up - how many times I had to go through that window. I swear it seemed like it was a weekly event. Of course, I was young so I thought it was very exciting and fun and MacGyverish.  Now, not so much.

Finally, B and the neighbor arrive with a ladder.  B climbs the ladder up to the window and as he is going through he says "here's a blogger for ya."  Sigh. He knows me so well.