and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring,
because we both got locked out.
Okay, so maybe that didn't rhyme. Maybe my sense of iambic pentameter has been clouded by rage and subsequent relief.
It was an unseasonably warm Christmas Eve for two native Illinoisians, probably about 60+ degrees and sunny. So...we decided to play some frisbee in the soccer fields next to our condo. After an hour or so of running and jumping, we were sweaty and cashed. We collected our things to head back home when...
Seth: "Shit. The key isn't in my pocket."
Kerry: "Ha ha...whatever, ass clown."
Seth: "Kerry...I'm not kidding."
Kerry: "Ha ha...you're kidding.
Seth: "We better start looking, there's only an hour of daylight left."
Kerry: "Whatever. You have the key."
After Seth started looking for the key, it became apparent to me that maybe he didn't actually have it. Shit. Locked out. Christmas Eve evening. No money. No phones. No identification.
But let's look at the bright side...at least the tiny little key had to be somewhere in the GIANT ASS OPEN FIELD.
Kerry: " *%$#@!, Seth! Mother %$@#$@!& &%*#*@ key! For the love of #$@!@#$ Stinking #$%@#$!"
I combed the field, while Seth did his best impression of Spiderman.
Note: We don't live on the first floor.
But we got inside somehow (hence my typing on the computer)...and Sethie feels bad.
I'll forgive him in exchange for some early Christmas presents.
What a sweet guy.