Thursday 9 August 2012

Locked Out

"On no! You complete idiot! You total fool!" were my exasperated words as I stood outside the front door, Little A, clung to my side, watching my befuddled, pained expression.

"What's the matter mummy?"

"We're locked out."

Only two minutes earlier, we'd stood at the gate waving bye bye to H and her toddler. They drove away - at first, slowly, returning our goodbyes, then with applied acceleration once the car had crawled passed. Even then, premonitions danced in my gut - visions of being locked out of house and home. And my imagination wasn't disappointed. Behind me, the wind schemed, and with a Machiavellian gust, I heard something slam, clatch firmly shut. I turned around to find the front door securely closed. Bullet proof. My mouth and stomach joined ranks in shock.

My keys were inside.

My phone was, also, inside.

And this is where we found ourselves last Friday afternoon. Locked outside, me, Little A, in the elements, far from friends. No phone. No Keys. No nothing. How were we going to get back inside? More worryingly, how long were we going to be out here for? Younger Dad was at the Olympics enjoying the badminton, and wasn't due back till late. I had no idea if and when our next door neighbour, who inhabits the ground floor flat, would return. We could be stuck until midnight! Even worse, my newly intrepid potty adventurer only had one pair of pants and leggings to sustain her until we were rescued. No. No. No. This can't be happening. Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.

"Mummy is having a nightmare Little A."

"We're having a nightmare Mummy."

"Little A, you must tell mummy if you you need a wee or a poo."

"Kay."

A thoughtful pause as we both pondered our predicament...

"Mummy, we can't get in."

"I know. I know."

I berated my self for not placing the lock on the latch, for not carrying my keys - I usually carry them, just in case, as a cautionary measure against something like this ever happening. And now I'd gone and done it. Duh. For ten minutes we loitered like two strays under the shade of the porch, the afternoon sun, creeping, chewing its way into the shadow. Oh no, Little A has no sun cream. She's not even wearing socks. I mentally flustered. I mentally panicked.

Then, I breathed. In and out. Long and slow. Calming. Calmer. Calm.

Suddenly, a glimpse of that most resilient of all helpers - 'Survival 101'. So, I prodded the front door. It answered with a sealed silence - "But it's ME, not a burglar!" I tried picking the lock with some discarded plastic. No luck. I attempted a shy kick. What was I thinking? It's a brand new door. "Mummy I need a wee wee," Little A moaned. I lifted her over the recycling bin and she pee'd with abandon - one of my better ideas -"well done Little A!"

Bravely, I mummed-up and started harassing passers-by. "Er, can I have a moment of your time please, we're locked out?" A few nervously glanced in our direction, walking swiftly by. Soon enough, a kind lady let me use her phone to contact Younger Dad, but, oh, the frustration, I couldn't remember his number. "Ooose that," said the voice on the other end of the line, no, that wasn't the warm tones of my betrothed.

The lady, wishing she could assist more, had to make her way home, but was soon followed by another kind soul, who stayed with me for nearly an hour. At first, he wasn't sure - nodding at the door, he asked if this was my home. I was a little offended by his question, but then, I had to agree, the present situation could be construed, by the more suspecting person, as a clever scam. He realised by the pleading look on my face that I was telling the truth. He offered his phone, pen and paper, and off to work I went decoding, unscrambling the mystery that was Younger Dad's number. I tried different combinations but to no avail, all my efforts rewarded by European dialling tones. The kind stranger, who, as it turned out, lived just around the corner, put me in contact with my doctors surgery. Of course! They will give me the number. But the line was persistently engaged.

In the mean time, Little A rolled about on the dusty tiles, chewing mud - which I yanked from her mouth, and battling against her afternoon nap; I could for see a difficult, teary bedtime ahead.

I still couldn't get through to the surgery, but a BURST of inspiration, like a beacon, a light house, illuminated the obvious answer... After almost two hours, the best idea I'd had yet. Why hadn't I thought of this before?

Little A's nursery, a five minute walk away, had all our numbers.

I thanked the sympathetic stranger for his help - we never unearthed our names - I think he was relieved I'd, at last, found a solution.

The staff at the nursery were brilliant. Little A used the potty, ate baked beans and played with the other children. Miraculously, I made contact with Younger Dad on the first call ....

"Younger Dad, it's me."

"What phone number are you calling from?"

"Er, the nursery, we're in a pickle, I locked us both out of the flat."

"Don't worry, the badminton has finished, I'm coming back now."

After an hour or so, Younger Dad arrived, and finally, finally, on arriving home, after four hours of waiting and wondering, after all the stress, I watched with utter relief as the keys were inserted into the lock and the wretched front door, at last, opened.

Needless to say, Younger Dad's mobile number has since been emblazoned on my forehead.


Even though it's Thursday, I'm linking this post up with Hello Wall's, Wednesday Witter.

Wednesday Witter


24 comments:

  1. So glad it all went well. Don't know if I would have managed as well as you:)

    http://oddparent.blogspot.dk/

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    1. Thank you, it was a relief to be let inside again!

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  2. It's horrid, isn't it? How a day can go off the rails at the slam of a door.

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    1. It was horrid, especially that first moment when I realised we couldn't get in.

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  3. How awful! I have learned my lesson on this one and have a key in a plastic sandwich bag and buried in the front garden in a spot only I know.....

    I have no idea what my OH's mobile number is either...think it starts with a '0'!! hee hee

    x

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    1. Now that's a good idea ... You can't be too careful! When you have a mobile phone, what's the point in memorising numbers?

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  4. What a nightmare, there is nothing worse. Hugs xx

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    1. Yes it was a mare. Guess Little A learnt a new word - nightmare!

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  5. Gone are the days when we had to memorize everyone's phone numbers. I even forget my parents' number sometimes.

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    1. I know ... well it's a lesson learnt for me, always good to have a few memorised in case I'm separated from my mobile phone again.

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  6. I could hardly breathe when I was reading that - your tensions was palpable. Brilliant writing. Horrible happening, but Hooray, all over x

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    1. Thank you OSM! It wasn't pleasant and totally ruined my afternoon. But as you say, hurrah it all got resolved, finally.

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  7. Poor you. We've all done it though.

    My friend did this. She had her baby in her arms, and with keys in hand shut the door, which duly locked. They keys in hand were however, plastic toy keys! She luckily had her car keys because she was off to the airport to collect a friend. On their return to their house, the friend was shoved through a window to unlock the door from the inside. She did this only once!

    Our house now has a key lock on the outside because we were always going off without keys expecting the other one to be in on our return - except they had just popped out on an errand. When our two little ones arrived, this became quite tricky and the key lock was duly added! It has been well used! Sophie

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    1. Lucky she had her friend to crawl through the window! Unfortunately I live on the top floor flat so that wasn't an option. Key - lock, good idea but as I live in London, might be best to keep keys in pocket at all times! :o).

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  8. Poor you - what a nightmare. Like you, I'm normally so vigilant about making sure I've got a key/ the door is on the latch but I have this niggling feeling that one day soon I'll probably end up in exactly the same predicament!

    As per the post above, I'm thinking of getting a key safe hidden in a discreet place by the side of the property. Just can't work out if London burglars are one step ahead when it comes to cracking the code so whether it is worth it or more of an open invitation?! x

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    1. Yes it was - a total mess up of the day. I felt really stupid - I always carry my keys - sods law that would happen on the day I chose not to have them in my pocket! Key safe is a good idea, I think, and should be okay if placed in a discreet place. Better not to be caught out! x.

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  9. Oh God. When we first moved in to our current house, I got locked out (phone inside) with my 2 year old son (naked) in my arms, covered in puke. He had decided to be sick all over himself and I'd forgotten that our new doors had old fashioned yale locks..... what a way to be introduced to your new neighbours!!!!

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    1. You're kidding! Oh no! That sounds awful. Sounds like your neighbours helped you out though? Couldn't think of anything worse - trapped outside with a naked toddler covered in sick!

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  10. Oh poor you. Sounds like Little A was good in a crisis though. Chewing mud is standard procedure in lock-out situations. Lock-in requires a different protocol of course.

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    1. Little A was brilliant - she never cried once! And she really understood the situation ... I can really learn alot from her!

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  11. It happened to me once. I was talking with my upstairs neighbour when the door just shut, my daughter was NLT 2 months old and it was quite chilli outside. My neighbour gave me a blanket to wrap around my daughter and waited for my husband, she never invited me inside though as we were to that close. Weird anyway the good thing was that my hubby only worked a 15 minute drive back then so it was quite fast.
    I would've.panicked a lot more in your place though. So happy it all ended up ok.

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    1. Gosh! That doesn't sound very nice at all, and your little on was only two years old - sounds like your husband got back home pretty fast to let you back in - phew! Fortunately for me, it all ended okay - could have been alot worse!

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  12. I have considered having a fling with our local young locksmith just so that I can have his personal mobile number on me at all times. Also, that way, he might not charge me £70 each time he has to come to the house. Ooops, hang on, that makes me sound a little bit like a practitioner of the oldest profession, which I am not, obviously.

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    1. Not a bad idea! They charge a small fortune to let you back in again - R.I.P O.F.F. No, no, of course not, I know you don't do that sort of thing! ;o).

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