Yes I bake cookies for my neighbor

I have recently been told this story is funny. Now that a few weeks have passed my embarassment and anger have subsided. So, I will share it with you in the hope that you can learn these lessons the easy way, reading it.
It all started on a Monday and Monday's are never good (except in the Fall with football). I rose out of bed happy because the beauty sleep had worked (yes, I'm being sarcastic, do you know me?). I dressed, brushed and flushed, not in that order. My adorable dog Betsy completed her morning yoga routine and so we girls were ready for our power walk. I got my cell phone and we started our walk and I dialed my mom. Mom and I talked as I walked and I shared with her that I had an appointment with my new boss at 2:30pm to sign the contracts, copy the Social Security card, and write my address, date of birth, and phone number on a couple hundred sheets of paper. It was 10:30am as I approached the front door, still talking to my mom, I said, "Uh, Mom, I have to go, I think I have locked myself out of the house."
Yes I felt stupid, but I convinced myself not to worry because a few weeks earlier my husband had locked us out of the house (it runs in the family). After the $80 we payed to have some guy use his Kroger card to open our door my DH bought a masterlock key keeper and attached it to a pipe in the crawl space of the house. So, I sat Betsy down and explained to her why we could not go into the house. She didn't take it well. She was thirsty and wanted to watch The View. So I set off for the side of the house and opened the crawl space door. HUGE Spiders scurried across the entrance to the dark abyss. A toad was sitting right inside the door, immediately visions of the Harry Potter Chamber of Secrets popped into my head. I began to sweat, the kind of sweat created by fear. Yes I was fearful of toads leaping on me in the dark and spiders crawling on me and three important questions came to my mind 1) Does that insulation have asbestos in it? 2) If I faint right here will anyone find me? 3) What is the code for the master lock? That last question turned out to be the one that would haunt me. As I paced in front of the dark abyss I stalled by calling my husband who was working in the CCU. I asked him what the code was for the lock. He gave me a short lecture on how I didn't listen when he told me a few weeks ago. I took the lecture because I needed to get into my house. I summoned all the courage I had and delved into the abyss (after throwing sticks, rocks, and the top of an outdoor ligh into the abyss to scare the toads away). I found the master lock and put the code in backward, forward, passing the zeros etc. I called my DH two more times and was assured that this was the correct code. After 40 minutes (some of that time includes the pacing) I emerged from the abyss dirty, sweaty, with pink asbestos insulation in my hair, and no key! Yes I felt like a moron.
So, I went across the street to the neighbors house. Here is where the title of this blog comes into play. A few weeks earlier I had brought my retired neighbor some home-made oatmeal cookies. I used the cookies to introduce myself and start a friendship. So, I went to my neighbor and asked for his Kroger card (remember all I have is a phone and a dog). He and I both tried the card and it didn't work. By now it is 12:00pm. I am hungry, tired and dirty. So I call information and am connected to a locksmith who will be to my aid in thirty minutes. I sit on the steps and look into my dogs eyes. I sense her disappointment in me for being so stupid and getting us in this predicament. Plus, because I'll have to pay a locksmith that means no bones this month. I do what any woman would do in this pathetic situation, call my best friend. No my BF could not unlock my door because she's in FL, but she told me I was not a moron, nor was I stupid and helped pull my self-esteem out of the gutter. If you are not a medical wife you might be thinking right now, "Why didn't your DH just bring you the key?" Well, as I mentioned above he was working in the CCU and although I felt like my situation was an emergency it didn't compare to people with heart failure one life support.
After my BFF cheered me up a bit I found an empty flower pot and filled it with water. Betsy was so excited she lapped a few drops up and then knocked the whole thing over on me. So now I was tired, dirty, hungry, and wet. But now is where it starts to get funny. Finally the "locksmiths" show up. They came in an unmarked car, had Russian accents, a few screw drivers and some lock picks. My imagination immediately led me to the idea that these guys were really ex-KGB agents laid off after the end of the Cold War. This idea proved to be true when after an hour they still were not in my house, they tried the Kroger card, they tried the screw drivers and lock pics, they tried the master lock box in the abyss, and some thing that looked like a blood pressure cuff. The leader of this dynamic duo looked at me and said in his heavily accented voice, "This is a high security door, I think we'll have to drill the door down." The ex-KGB agents were used to capitalism because they were going to charge me $130 plus I'd have to buy a new door (remember the last time it was$80 and a Kroger card). It was 1:30pm. I said NO! I asked them if they could give me a ride to the hospital which was 20 minutes away, their answer was "No we can't we're at work!" Now that I look back I thank God they said no because considering they weren't doing any good as locksmiths I wonder what their real work was.
Now, we're almost ending this story and if your still with me you won't believe this. I go back across to my cookie neighbor and asked him to drive me to the hospital. As we were leaving in his Ford truck the ex-KGB agents were chasing me down. Why? Because I did not pay. Why? Because all of my stuff was in the house. I asked them to leave me an invoice. They had no business card, invoice, no paper with any information. KGB story confirmed. Well my cookie neighbor and I outrun the Russians and he says to me "Do we have to go across any bridges?" I said, "I don't know" He said, "I have a phobia of bridges." Well folks I found out later not only is he afraid of bridges (we had to go across two), he also has not been downtown in 30 years, nor been away from his house for more than an hour in 17 years, and had not been to visit his wife last year in the very hospital I was asking him to take me to because of these phobias. All I can say is, I bake some GOOD cookies. We made it to the hospital, I was relieved that didn't have to check Cookie neighbor in, and I got the key and we got home. I was 30 minutes late for my appointment, so this whole ordeal took over 4 hours.
Epilogue: My husband arrived home late that evening and the first thing I said was "Go into the abyss and see if you can get the key out Fort Knox." He came out two minutes later and said, "Oh, I gave you the wrong code, sorry." Sorry! Yes, I bake cookies for my neighbor, but NO cookies for my husband for a very long time if you catch my drift.
Lessons I hope you learned: 1) hide a key yourself 2) bake cookies for your neighbors 3) always have your BFF on speed dial 4) Remember you are stronger than you know.