I don’t often toot my own horn in this way, but I can’t help it. I’ve never seen myself as the type to do this sort of thing so I want to talk about it. A lot.
We got locked out of the house today.
Not because we’d forgotten our keys or anything like that. No, no; for some reason our keys (and the spare kept safe with a neighbour) just didn’t work. They went round and round (and round!) in the lock and just wouldn’t open it. We got the first lock undone, but couldn’t do the next.
Dave rang me up – I was still out – asking how close I was and explaining what had happened. He was outside with two young’uns and a tonne of shopping so I raced home with the pram to help. My key didn’t work either.
After establishing that our neighbours to either side weren’t in, and that the gate to the back was locked beyond our help, there was only one way to handle it. At least to my mind. My solution: kick the door down.
Mwah ah ah a a ha ha hah ah ahaaa ha haaa!
It took a couple of goes but I ambled up to that door, sized it up and kicked it in. Kicked it in good!
I’m so hard! :p