One of those days.

Well, today started out decently well. No major hiccups.

Don parked the Jeep in the Garage (which basically we never do), and drove the other car to work.

An hour or so later I decide to finally get myself over to the dreaded grocery store. (Which by the way, I used to go to the grocery store for "fun" and spend an hour in the cereal isle scoping out new carbohydrates and granola-y type products. I had hay days with the 10 for 1o at Albertsons and came home with like 50 boxes of cereal). Anyway, these days I abhor going to the grocery store. I blame it all on Chloe, my horrible child. Okay, she is not "horrible" but she is one and she is really, really...truly terrible at the grocery store.

I lock the front door of my house, and the top latch and then head my way through the pantry door, lock that, get in my car, and drive away. I never leave through the back door, always the front. This seems inconsequential now, but is a key point to the latter part of this story. Back to my story- By this time I am talking a lot to myself about how hot I am (temperature wise, not hot as is in "ow ow! Look at the hot mama!") and begroaning my miserable, sweaty, hot life. Also, the car has a strange pickle relish smell, which Don later told me was a delightful mixture of cinnamon air freshener and mildew caused by rain wetted seats. In truth I actually liked it, it reminded me of hot dogs, and I like those. Most of the time. Like at Ball games. If I went to Ball games.

I reach my destination, AKA Dad's house. He said he would go along with me and help at the store.

The grocery store was about a 6/10, so that was not too bad. Especially since we discovered these grocery cars (I purposely wrote cars instead of carts). Super invention. I applaud the inventor, whoever that might be. I hope they are rich. They deserve to be. So Chloe drove her car and I got my groceries. Although...we are going to have to have a chat about jumping out of a moving vehicle later.

(this isn't Chloe by the way)

Grocery shopping. Check. Groceries in car. Check. Chloe strapped in. Check. On the way home. Hallelujah.

Melissa then commits a felony and talks on the phone while driving (HUGE no no with Daddy Mott). Not sure why I switched to 3rd person. But her phone dies. Oh well, we are almost home, I will just call back. (Back to 1st person I see).

I arrive home, get Chloe out, and a jug of apple juice. My plan being 1. Go inside 2. Make child bottle of apple juice 3. Put child in crib and close the door for at least 2 hours. 4. Get rest of groceries inside. 5. Call sister back while putting groceries away. 6. Watch t.v.

This is what really happened. 1. Try to open front door. Realize the top latch is locked. 2. Realize it is humanly impossible for me to get inside through the front door because I am not a resourceful male who is able to figure stuff like this out. 3. Attempt to go through pantry door through the garage. 4. The key does not work in the pantry door. 5. Attempt to use a credit card to open the door. 6. Ya right. Refer to #2, the resourceful male part. 7. Say, "I am so flippin hot" about 7 times. 8. Remember that my cell phone is dead. 9. Say "I am so flippin hot" about another 7 times. 10. Knock on 3 different neighbors doors for help. 11. Drive around the neighborhood 2 times. 12. Say "I am so flippin hot" at least another 7 times. 13. Give up and decide to drive back over to my dad's house. 14. Run into neighbor as leaving the neighborhood. 15. Petition them for water and a few morsels of bread. 16. They agree. I call my dad and store my groceries in neighbor's fridge. 17. Dad comes over. 18. Spends at least an hour trying to get it. Ends up breaking latch on front door to get in. 19. Pretty sure he had heat stroke after some strange behavior, but that is a whole other story. 20. 2 hours later...Home sweet home.

This was I am sure insanely boring. Kudos for anyone bored enough to read it. It was really intensely frustrating and I kept saying to myself, surely there must have been an easier way to solve this. Sometimes I think I am losing my brain.

It is all Chloe's fault. I would have never done something so hairbrained as locking myself out BEFORE I had her. wink wink. I am so glad I have a baby to blame things on. Like tardiness...messy house...bad clothes...smelly stuff...etc.