Reason #491 why Mindi should not be up before the sun or More proof that God really likes me in spite of myself

Yesterday started for me at 4 am. Not a pretty sight. Baby woke up, which is rare, and I was determined to get to my 5:30 spin class where Kevin Bacon’s twin brother teaches so I forced myself to stay awake knowing if I went back to dreamland I may never come back.

Later that morning I took my eldest to the doctor because I was sure she had strep throat(test was negative) and by the time we were done with that it was 10:30 and I realized I had already been up for over 6 hours and was starting to feel a little funky. I was in need of an emergency (it’s always an emergency) 44ouncer and my eldest was in need of an emergency ice cream cone (you know, cuz of the whole sore throat thing. Ice cream and Sprite are both cure all’s in my children’s eyes. They’re so silly. Don’t they know that’s Diet Coke??) so we pulled into Maverick, my home away from home. The kids get out, I lock up the car and we go walking in.

I suddenly have the thought, where did I put my keys? I’m checking pockets, purse, bra no where. It starts dawning on me that they may be in the car but I’m really hoping I dropped them on my way in.

**Sidenote**I have this strange ability to almost always think everything is alright. I rarely panic (unless there’s a pile of dirty dishes in my sink or I’m being asked one more ridiculous question or I find out my stash of Diet Coke has been depleted). For some reasons in big deal moments, I figure everything will work out ok. I always pray the the Holy Ghost will tell me when something is really bad and I should panic. **endsidenote**

Anyway, we get our accoutrements and head back outside. All this time I am thinking the keys are probably on the ground or one of the doors didn’t lock, which happens often but not when I want it to.. That’s whenI realize my car is running.

Yes, the stupid thing is running (please note, it’s the car’s fault. Certainly not mine.). You know what that means, the keys are not on the ground. And yes, every door locked. Even the trunk. Curse you locking mechanism for actually working this one time!!

Even though we do not have  a spare key because a child threw away our other set and he was up in Heber working, I did the only thing I could think to do: I called my husband. This was his helpful response: Uh oh.

That’s when I remembered that one of our back wing windows was broken and I can pull it open from the outside…I wonder if I could fit a kid in there…

**Anothersidenote**We happen to buy something and use it till it has died. This includes clothes, appliances, toothbrushes and cars. Yes, our window is broken, a part that Ford no longer makes is epoxied to stop a leak for who knows how long, and one of our rear view mirrors is super glued on. I think our engine might be held in place with bungee chord or duct tape. **endsidenote**

Well, look at that! Four year old fits perfectly!! And she’s willing! Yay!! I open up the window as far as it will go and shove her in there as she shimmies in. We are all laughing our faces off! She climbs over seats and junk and after a tutorial on how to unlock the door we are in!

I am in awe of yet another tender mercy making up for my stupidity and we are all just laughing in nervousness and glee and continually telling four year old she’s our hero of the day. Well, she get so mad!

“No I’m not!!” she says.

“But, baby,” I reply, “You saved the day, you are our hero!”

“I am not a hewo! I am wittwe and I’m not even weawing a cape!!”

Moral of the story? If you’re gonna be a hero, you better bring a cape.

And an extra set of keys.