I go into the garage to put a disturbingly smelly diaper straight into the outside garbage and what happens?
I hear the house door shut.
Whatever. She has shut it before.
I turn around to go back in the house, turn the knob… and it’s locked!
Deep breaths.
“Can you open the door for Momma?” {Door knob jiggles}
“Pea… open the door please” {More jiggling, then nothing}
In my mind: FUCK!
I go around the side of the door to the back patio- fuckin’ locked.
SONOFABITCH!
I peep in through the blinds, which are closed (cause I’m a fuckin VAMPIRE and like to keep the blinds shut and the 100+ degree sunshine out) so I can’t really see her, but I kind of can.
We keep a little dowel in the patio door to keep it closed b/c it doesn’t really shut well otherwise. Baby C ALWAYS, ALWAYS plays with said dowel. Walking around the house with it like she’s a damn baton twirler. Today?
“Can you get the stick for Momma? Take the stick out of the door for Momma please…”
{dead stares, laughter and the pitter-patter of little feet running away}
She comes back to the patio door, looks out the blinds and is smiling cause she found Mommas hard candy- and Curious George is on TV? Jackpoooot!
“Come here Pea, can you take the stick out the door for Momma please?”
nothin
I call my husband at work and tell him that I may just have to call the Police and he is convinced that if I do, they may alert child protective services.
Really? Fuck.
Worst. Mom. Moment. Ever.
Call my mom, she’s trying to talk me down, but my kid is starting to lay on the rug- looks like she’s ready for a nap.
FUCK! NO NO NO- don’t sleep!
Long story short?
9-1-1
“Uhhh yeah Ma’am, if Fire & Rescue comes out there, they are just gonna kick your door in, so you may just wanna call your landlord.”
You have GOT to be fucking kidding me.
Call my landlord. And I just lose it.
I’m crying, it’s fuckin 10070million degrees outside and my kid is stuck in the house.
Awesome. This is a fine moment.
Landlord calls her husband b/c he’s closer and he’s on his way, it’ll be like 10 minutes.
Sweet.
What next? Fuckin dog starts barking and I hear “hello”
I walk around the house- it’s the Sheriff.
Fuck, I’m in trouble.
I wonder if they’ll handcuff me for like child endangerment.
He talks it out with me. Tells me to keep an eye on the kiddo through the half-closed blinds and he’ll walk around the house, see if he can get in.
Next? Sheriff #2 shows up, then? Sheriff #3
Mother of God I hope my neighbors aren’t all outside now.
Worst. Mommy. Moment. EVER.
By some act of GOD my Sheriff finds a way to get a window open, climbs in it and saves the mothafuckin day.
Thank you, Lord.
I just burst into tears when I saw my kid… thinking when in the HELL did you learn to lock a lock? Just today? Awesome. The DAY my kid learns what makes a lock- lock- she locks me out of the house.
Ugh.
Disaster.
WORST MOMMY MOMENT EVER.
Tell me your worst mommy moments so I don’t feel so bad and wanna go wallow in self-pity by the name of Petron.
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