Friday, April 01, 2011

Why she's not getting the keys anymore.

Harps favorite non-toy (but aren't all favorites non-toys, really?) is my keys. Oh, the glittering baubles and shiny metallic wonderment! I usually hand them over en route to the car and she gets to tinker with them while I buckle her in. A few weeks ago, she discovered the LOCK button (dum dum dum foreshadowwwwwing), which was only mildly annoying until yesterday. Cough.

I boogied her out of naptime attire and hurried to story time, for our favorite reader -- Mr. Jeff. He's kind of bizarre, but he's gentle and tells little stories about his life and I'm pretty much fascinated. Harps likes him, too. 'Course we got there and some twenty-something chick in a pilly sweater was feebly singing the alphabet, so all for naught. Doh.

After hitting up the swings and dirt and a four-year-old who was obsessed with Harps and followed her around high and low (why must this happen to us always everywhere? little girls attach themselves to H and keep asking me 'CAN I TOUCH HER?' eeeeeeeeeeeeeep), we headed to the car.

She grabbed my keys, must have immediately pressed lock, I snuggled her in, handed her a chunk of banana and her book and threw my keys onto the front seat. (Why whyyyyy, asks Nancy Kerrigan?) Thwap, close her door and realize with a sinking feeling...

Yup. Locked locked closed locked can't get in oh my locked hello! Wave to mumma!

Now, have this happen on a sweltering day with a newborn and I'dda lost my noodle HARD. However. It was a blustery day, she was happily munching on a 'nana, and there were a gajillion people around. Secured a passerby's phone ("Oh, I've done that!" "Me too!" said her friend. Followed by: "This is why we pay our taxes!!!!" Which, I mean, I agree -- but it made me feel strangely uncomfortable and was I supposed to maybe salute the library's flag?) and called 911.

Within 2 minutes, a firetruck was pulling up. SIRENZ and lights and six men storming my car! I couldn't stop giggling nervously and saying "I've never done this before! I never have! NEVER!" Which I'm sure reassured them wholly. Took them about 5 minutes to shimmy open the lock, at which point they individually came over to Harps and made sure she was okay. A little sweaty and totally confused why big ol' men were peering in at her banana-face, but definitely okay.

She gave a little flirty head tilt and a "eh?" sound, which was my cue to explain who everyone was. With a little nod, she accepted my answer and I said thank you as many times as I could fit in, before they drove away on their trusty steed and I hung my head in exhaustion and momfailness.

All in a day's work, people!

5 comments:

  1. This post brought to you by the April Fool's people? :) Hi-larious! Love the drama of the fire truck.

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  2. Anonymous1:57 PM

    Kinda scary that it only took them 5 minutes to jimmy open the lock on your car, no?

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  3. i wish i could've seen the entire thing. we called the police station once to see if they would unlock our vehicle (keys were left in them). they said only if there was a child in the vehicle.

    harp is smart, dude.

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  4. Wow! way to remain cool as a cuke. That kiddo IS smart (she even had banana provisions with her)!

    Being a tall 20 month-old, Sonja once pulled the (little red box) fire alarm on the downtown campus of a major midwestern university at 5PM rushhour...totally understand the feeling of sheepishness for calling in the fire trucks, sirens and all.

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  5. Hide a key in a magnetic key box on the car and hide a house key outside the house - presto no more stress.

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