I Am an Idiot
About an hour ago I went to the local shop (I bought chocolate and hummus, if you’re wondering
) and returned about five minutes later. As usual I put my key into the lock (zomg, no way!), and as usual I couldn’t turn it straight away. I have a Disney key (LOL fail) which, for some reason, means I need to pull it back out about a millimetre before I can turn it.
This time, however, no amount of pushing in and pulling out made my key turn. I tried for about five minutes—even bending my key out of shape in the process—but nothing. Then I remembered. When I unlocked the front door this morning I left the key in the lock, on the inside. So that left me technically “locked out”. If you read my previous entry you’d know that my family are away until Wednesday so I began to panic a bit. I called my mum and asked her if anyone had a spare key—just in case the key on the inside wasn’t there and there was a problem with my actual key. She told me they didn’t and said that I’d have to stay at my brother’s and our pets would have to starve (her actual words). So I phoned my dad and he told me to try again with the key, which still didn’t work, then to go to my brother’s and ask him to come over and try it. Or, failing that, see if we had an open window somewhere and get him to climb through that. He also told me I need to “sort myself out”, as if accidentally leaving a key in a lock was a sign I was having a mental breakdown or something.
Anyway, I went to my brother’s, luckily he lives down the same street as us, and even more luckily, he was in. So we had to go around the back of my house to see if I had left my bedroom window open (I vaguely remembered I had, but I couldn’t be sure). That was a feat in itself. There are two gates you have to go through to get into our back garden, with a very small, thin space between them. When we got the first one open there was a dustbin full of water (rainfall) in the way. Then the small space before the next gate was full of my dad’s junk: a little tool shed, tools, the bin, a ladder etc. When we’d squeezed past all of that the second gate was almost impossible to open. It has a latch on the top and on the bottom, on the inside. He finally undid the first one, then when he got to the second one he could only just squeeze his hand between the gate and the fence, which then got stuck. Then we couldn’t open the gate either way.
We eventually got in and fortunately my bedroom window was open. But my dad’s ladder was padlocked to its holder so we couldn’t use that and had to ask our neighbour if we could borrow his. It was in his front garden so my brother had to go all the way back around to the front of the house to get the ladder and carry it back. He climbed up it with ease (though he was nervous and a little hungover) and when he made it through my window my heavy wooden blinds were in the way and the cord that raises them was on the other side of the window, out of his reach. 
But luckily he managed to get in and all was right with the world.
But I’m still an idiot.

She was 6lb 6oz, I think.

She’s sticking her tongue out in the second one. 





