The Key Issue Here

Kay so, my husband and I accomplished a great feat of epic stupidity tonight, the likes of which far surpassed and exceeded my own expectations of idiocy. The thing of it is, it didn't make me feel so stupid when we did it three nights ago, and the first time it was actually sort of funny. But the second time? It definitely didn't make me want to chuckle-snort. At one point, I think I might have sob-snorted in an attempt to make it a chuckle-snort, but that turned out sort of disgusting sounding and made me look really weird in the face, so let us not discuss that anymore. The fact of it is, three nights ago, my husband and I went out on a nice relaxing date at this new (for us) Italian restaurant, a local hotspot in this area that we haven't fully explored yet, and I bought some ice cream to take home with me because it required a spoon for consumption and we were ready to relax at the condo. Here's the math that was in my head and the reasoning behind going home to eat the ice cream:

And there you have it. Holding my ice cream like a precious piece of fine gold, I walked hand in hand with my husband to the front door of our condo, fully expecting to hear the heavenly sound of keys jingling together as he moved to unlock the door...

We stared at each other.

A blinking contest ensued.

We spoke at the same time: "Aren't you going to unlock the door?"

Why no, no we weren't going to unlock the door, because neither of us remembered a couple hours prior to pick the keys up off the kitchen counter. We had to wait around in panic mode for two hours with no idea as to how to get inside our condo, and then finally call up a general manager guy with a skeleton key to all the condos for help on a Friday night because MY ICE CREAM WAS MELTING.

Oh, and we had no place to sleep and all our stuff was locked away from us and the main office isn't open on weekends so maybe we might have to sleep outside in the cold with the rattlesnakes and skunks and huge and hairy spiders. That too.

But the general manager must have been having a good night because he drove all the way out here from wherever he lives and unlocked our door for us. Yay manager person with a skeleton key that lets him go into whatever condo he wants whenever he wants! This all happened three nights ago, and we finally got inside, grabbed our keys, and exclaimed that we couldn't believe we'd done that. Also, we promised that it would never happen again, that we'd both be more aware of the key's location at all times and especially when we leave the premises.

... We lied.

Here it is, Tuesday afternoon the following week. My husband just gets home from work, we're both hungry, and so we decide to go out for a sit down meal and some nice wind-down conversation. We've been married for exactly ten months come tomorrow and the newlywed phase pretty much sums up our time together. It's great because everyday is like another date, or rather the date is one long never-ending bout of awesome togetherness. So it's a Tuesday and we're ready to continue with the date that is our lives, I get my purse, we spruce ourselves up a little (I bathe and everything!), and we're all smiley and lovey dovey as we walk out the front door. Well of course, as soon as the door shuts, the sound wakes me up from the splendor of the evening like a gunshot ringing through the night air, and I stare in abject horror at my husband's keyring that seems suspiciously absent of a front door key.

He seems to notice the direction of my wide-eyed gaze.

We blink at each other, silent.

And then as one unit, we exclaim to the closed door: "You've got to be kidding me!"

Instead of going out and just enjoying our date, we're suddenly both frustrated, feeling stupid, defeated, and just a tad bit like we were just swooshed into last week's fiasco where my ice cream melted before I could eat it and we had to beg the general manager to give up his night life for a fun ride to our condo. I wanted to call him up right away again, but my husband absolutely refused to ask that guy to unlock our door just days after we locked ourselves out the last time, so we were pretty much stuck. That same horror from days earlier flashed before my mind again, with the rattlesnakes and the huge hairy spiders and the smelly disease-infested skunks. We decided to do the smart thing, however, and googled lock picking tools via smartphone and then drove to Wal-Mart to pick up said lock picking tools. We were gonna be awesome and solve our own problem without anyone knowing just how stupid we were, to lock ourselves out twice in three days. Pfft, us do something like that? No way! This time, we were gonna be heroes armed with lock picks and torque wrenches! The masked keyhole plungers!

... Well, we didn't wear masks. For obvious reasons.

Come to find out, the lock picking tools were way too big, and they wouldn't fit at all into our keyhole, but my husband managed to use an old credit card to slide his way inside our condo. It was surprisingly (read: scarily) easy and took all of two seconds for him to nudge his way inside with a mere flick of a card and some upper arm strength. Let this be a lesson to all who read this: use dead bolts for your doors! It is WAY too easy to card your way into houses without dead bolts!

All in all, we both felt really stupid for locking ourselves out again, but my husband saved the day and we didn't even have to beg the general manager for help this time (and wow, I just experienced my first ever funny typo - I'd typed the word bed instead of beg. Good thing I caught that!). We also discovered the new remedy to locking our keys inside our house and will be employing it whenever we find ourselves in that situation in the future.

... Not that we plan to be in that situation again in our future. The keys will come with us from now on!

Erm, hopefully.