MOVED!!!

Yes, you read that right...the kids and I are FINALLY moved into our new home.  Ironic and a little funny we moved in on the day my first house note was made. I'm trying to see the good side of things and not the "it took me a whole month to get moved" side of things.  We were just finally able to get the help and the trailers available.  Got it done fairly quickly and with only one tee-niney incident.  Brother and company was taking a load to the house while me and the girls stayed behind to load smaller items into our cars.  We get to the house and I hear my brother calling me from the back room--voice sounds different....

Tony:  Sister...I messed up. 
Me:  what do you mean you messed up?
Tony:  I broke the wardrobe
Me:  Which one?
Tony:  The one from Bella's room...it fell off the trailer.  I'm sorry.
Me:  Are you okay?
Tony:  Yes but it broke...but it can be fixed.
Me:  Its okay...really.  You're okay, we're all okay, that's all that matters.  Its just a wardrobe. 

And really...it is okay.  Its just a piece of furniture that can be replaced.  Took me a long time and tragedy in my life to be able to say that and stay calm about something like that but the lesson has been learned...the hard way.  That was the only hiccup that day.   I said "that" day. 

So Sunday morning the kids, my niece, nephew and I are up.  It felt great outside so I take my coffee cup outside to sit on the patio to enjoy the peace and have my yummy Texas Pecan coffee.  I leave the door cracked open because the lock on the french doors is one I still don't understand and one that can lock you out of your house...which is exactly what happened when the kids found me outside and had to come join me.  Now normally, I'm asking if they have grown tails because they never close doors behind them.  Sunday they did.  And the door locked.  And did I mention that I had cinnamon rolls in the oven?  Panic set in.  I had taken my phone outside with me so I called Daddy first. 

Daddy:  What did you do that for?
Me:  Well I didn't, the kids did.
Daddy:  (Silence) I don't know what to do.
Me:  Can't I like pick the lock or something?  They do it on tv all the time.
Daddy:  Don't think so.  call a locksmith.  Or worse case, call 911 and tell them you have little ones, oven is on and you're worried about a fire. 

We hang up, I call my sister thinking her hubby is home.  He's not...forgot he was out of town.  She packs up to come my way (she lives close by now).  I see my neighbor out so I send Chris to see if he can help or if he has any suggestions.  Please note, I do have an extra key...but it was in my car which was locked.  I also have a garage door opener, which was in the my car that's locked.  EVERYTHING was locked!

In the meantime, Daddy calls back to check on things.  Nothing new.  Still not in.  Oven is still on.  I'm still panicked but holding my shit together because the kids are there.  Daddy decides to come our way.

Mr. Gregory (God bless my new neighbors) comes over with tools in hand to assess the situation, my sister shows up and somewhere in the there I was on the phone with my brother--yes I called everyone!  And everyone is perplexed by the situation.  Go in through a window--can't because all the windows are locked.  Break one of the panes of glass in the french door--can't because its a full window.  Daddy eventually shows up and he and Mr. Gregory go to work trying to figure out what to do.  Cindy finds a wire hanger in the truck. 

Daddy:  What are you going to do with that?
Cindy:  I don't know.
Me:  I'm gonna pick the lock or something
Daddy:  no..no...no you're not.  That's not going to do anything.
Cindy & Me:  Grumbled looks on our face...more like pouting. 

Daddy walks off and I tell Cindy to give me the hanger.  I'm picking the friggin' lock.  yeah...that didn't work.  They make it look so easy on tv.  Daddy decides to go ahead and turn the gas off  because the cinnamon rolls are probably burning by now and I'm thinking I should just call 911 to get some help.  By the way, Idid make a call to the locksmith who didn't answer and had no alternate number to call for emergencies.  My sister, in the meantime is fiddling with the door and the hanger and proceeds to shove the hanger in between the french doors and starts moving it around, up and down, turning it and wouldn't you know...the door pops open! 

We go up front to tell Daddy and Mr. Gregory we got the door open...with the hanger!  I think (I know) they were surprised that little hanger got us in.  The cinnamon rolls were indeed burned but thankfully not so much that the house wasn't full of smoke yet.  Daddy turned the gas back on and left.  My sister and I marveled at her talents and I'm considering this sign for the house...

"Enter if you can.  If not, wait on my sister!"

God bless her...