anyways.
halfway through, i decided to straighten up a bit and take out the garbage while my daughter sat enthralled with super grover. i choose this opportune moment because lyla's favorite room in the whole house is the garage, and as much as i love all the dancing and running and yelling she does in there, she is devastated when i try to bring her back in. so i gathered up the garbage bag and quietly shut the door behind me.
you would think, in the space of 10 seconds, not much could happen. you would also think that the sound of a lock turning would be very quiet. but to a mother's ears? nothing's quiet anymore.
i stopped dead in my tracks...praying that my ears had deceived me. and with my arm outstretched before me, i placed my hand on the door knob. it wouldn't budge.
"baby...turn the lock back please!"
even the words sounded ludicrous to me, but i continued to say them.
"lyla, please let mama back in!"
even the bribe of a cookie didn't work...it just made her cry.
i then looked down. clad in jammies myself and knowing tony wouldn't be home for another 5 hours, i had no choice but to open the garage door and figure out how to break into my own house.
thankfully, i had just opened a window 5 minutes before.
i marched around to the back of the house and climbed up on the bench on the patio, pried off the screen and pulled open the window.
but then a new dilemma hit. i'm 8 months pregnant with flexibilty being a distant dream...and in a pair of pajamas that aren't fitting that great at the moment.
needless to say, i hoisted myself in...the neighbours got a good view...and what did i find when i finally landed in my living room? my daughter, happily sitting on the floor smiling at "lomo".
glad to know i was missed:).
