Lock, KNOCK, Panic, Spider

Here's how it went down:

Last Friday morning, I noticed that our neighbors across the street were having their garage sale that day, not just Saturday (it was the annual neighborhood garage sale last weekend.) I had planned to only sell my junk, er, ah, unneeded items, on Saturday with Jim at home, like any sane mother with four kids to keep track of. But they were getting a LOT of traffic, and they had advertised in the paper... I had to act fast.

I tried to finish the HAVE to things early, like, while the girls were eating breakfast- dishwasher empty so the sink won't pile up all day, etc, etc. I was in such a rush to finish what I could so as soon as the girls were done eating, I could charge the basement and get my stuff intended to be organized that night, organized that morning, for a sale-opener at noon, or so. If all went well. Ahem.

I picked up Hudson, who was long-past needing a diaper change, when I realized I should have gone to the bathroom first- I hadn't noticed that I needed to go. On my way to the bathroom, I saw this:Yes. I made them get in the kennel just for this picture.

Poor boys- I'd completely forgotten about them. I looked down, four little eyes pleading with me, two pairs of hind legs crossed in near-panic-need to get outside to do some bizness in the grass. My doggy-mama heart could only empathize, what with my own situation and all. I knew how they felt. So sacrificially, I let them out of the kennel, pre-my own trip to, well, you know.

Hudson-on-hip, we ran outside for some "relief". No problem, I can hold it. I do Kegels. Business complete, I turned to go back inside. I closed the door when I went out, of course, so bugs wouldn't get in. But, wait, it was really closed. No, really, really closed. Locked. Lily, the only one still cleaning up her breakfast dishes when I went out, had locked me out. Then she headed downstairs to get dressed, like I'd told her to. Panic! Panic! By now, I was crossing my own legs.

There I was, the dogs dying for breakfast, freaking out at the break of routine with me not letting them in and all, Hudson with me, with no where to put him down- the grass was super dewy, the deck just seemed like a bad option, what with how he'd probably eat some of the peeling stain and all. I banged and banged. No answer. Did I mention I was still in my PJ's? This included a white tank top, and there were The Mamas with no support, for all the neighbors and garage sale-goers to see.

So, baby on hip, I go to search out the elusive "hidden" key. I could not find the right place for. my. life. And I really, really, really needed to go by now. Kegels help no woman at this stage of need.

I almost had an accident right there on the landscaping. TMI? Hey. I'm just trying to keep it real.

I gave up, I needed to get in. I was on my way back to the door for more desperate banging. Then I heard a scream. Grace's scream. The door flung open. "MOMM-EEEEEEEEEE!!! THERE'S A SPIDER ON THE WALL!!!!!!!"

Praise Jesus. Hallelujah. Amen and Amen. I've never been more thrilled at the thought of a bug. I was saved.

I told Grace to leave it alone. I hurried to the bathroom, inches from being "too late" and of course when I was done, I sought out Lily and did the somewhat-useless-to-explain-this-to-a-two-year-old talk about never, ever, locking the door when someone's outside. As if she knew I was out there. She was just keepin' it locked like we tell her to. But, I had to say something...right?

We got ready for the day, I set up for the sale. I showered, and The Mamas went under cover like it should be.

The sale went great. Not everything went, but, it was a success. I got to know some really great people from the neighborhood, like Voldimer, a Ukrainian man with 10 children. He bought our old office chair for $5. This is why you should have a garage sale. You never know who's livin' in your neighborhood, just a couple of blocks away. I spent a small chunk of my profits on my own sale-ing trip the next morning. A good experience, all around. I will pee first next time. Lesson learned. End of story.