30 August 2011

A Happy Morning

I woke up this morning and went to the gym.  (I'm trying.) 

I left the house at 5:52 am.  I arrived at the gym at 5:59 am.  I picked out my eliptical machine (my friend Calen has challenged me to use the difficult eliptical rather than the easy one.  It is a morning-by-morning struggle;  this morning, I defeated the devilish temptation to go the easy route.).

After my eliptical, at 6:37, I called Paul to see if he cared if I did a few weights or if he needed to get going to work.
No Answer.

So, I did my weights.

I walked outside, at 6:59, and got in the car.

Except I didn't.

Because it was locked.

And the key was sitting in there, on the front seat, sneering back at me.

I tried all the doors.  I tried the trunk.

I called Paul.

No Answer.

I called Paul again.

No Answer.

I went to call him a third time and accidentally dialed my friend Amanda.  I quickly hung up, because, you know, the hours of acceptable phone calls are 8 am for people with kids; 9 am for those without until 9 pm. 

I called Paul again.
7:23 am at this point.
No Answer.

Amanda called me.  I had let it ring long enough for a missed call to show up. Dedgomit. 

She sent her husband, Stewart, around the corner, to bang on my door to try to get Paul's attention.
No Answer.

Amanda loaded up her pajamed little girls and came and grabbed me and deposited me at my house.  As we drove up, Paul called.  "Are you alive?"  (fair question....5 missed calls and all).

Now, I was in a car that we bought used.  It came with one key.  We had a duplicate made.  It didn't work.
We bought a used car that had one of those lovely microchip keys, and we only got one copy with the car.

Awesome, Dodge Caravan's Previous Owner.  Way to keep up with keys.

Being the children of our fathers, Paul and I are both cheap.  Or thrifty?  Well, depends.  Unless it's food, and then I've a tendency to be a little more lenient on what fits in the budget. 

So, we've never had a $130 stupid microchipped duplicate key made.

And, until today, in the three and a half years we've owned the van, it's not been a problem.

So, Paul googled.  How to break into a car.
We all loaded up, wedges and coat hangers and a few other accoutrements. 

We drove to the Y.  I read the children's history lesson to them in the car while Paul fiddled with the door.
No luck.

I then, of course, insisted on trying.

I failed.

While I was failing, Paul called the police department to see if they unlock cars for folks.

"No," was the answer.

He then got the bright idear to call the fire department.

"Yes," they said.  "Be glad to.  May we finish our breakfast first?" 

At this point, Ada Brooks and I are in a conversation about the accuracy of archaeological dating.

The Forster Five sat in the YMCA parking lot for about thirty minutes more, and then, what do you know, a big, bright red fire truck appeared.

Here they came.  To save the day.  Took them two seconds to open the car.

And they let the kids explore the truck a bit.   They were awesomely kind, smiled, and had a sense of humor.
They made my day.
Cheers, to the Jackson Fire Department!  Made me thankful, which I needed, to live in my city of occasional crime issues and more than occasional unwise budgeting issues, and even more than often water issues. 

It began a miserable, exercise-filled, lock your keys out of your van kind of day, and then, by 9, we had done an entire three days worth of history work, and gotten to see a big fire truck, thrilling the souls of a passel of younguns.

And I got to visit with my friend Amanda for a moment.  And see her precious ones in their pjs. 

And we got to have more time with Paul than we normally would.

It was, in a word, happy.  A happy morning all around. 


Welcome, Happy Morning. 

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