They say pregnancy makes the mother's brain loopy.

Well, I believe it.

A few hours ago, my dearest Hailey (who is 8 months pregnant) received a phone call from a neighbor of ours asking if she would take their trash can out to the curb for them, as they weren't home. She politely agreed to the task and offered her services. And by hers, I mean mine. At approximately 10:00 in the PM, she walked into the living room, between me and some shoot 'em up movie starring "The Rock" and informed me of my duty. I waited for a commercial break and then headed for the front door. Hailey decided she'd join me, as the assignment was only a few houses down the street. I headed out into the crisp night air. Hailey followed, closing the front door.

As soon as the door shut, a combination of fear and panic struck across her face.

"It's locked," she said. Her eyes asked, "Do you have your keys?"

HOLY ____.

We both sat there, stunned for a moment trying to contemplate our predicament. Our daughter was asleep in her crib, so not getting back inside immediately was not an option. I thought we could call our friends, the Jacobs, as they had a spare key, but then I realized that not only had they returned our key (for our realtor) but that both of our cell phones were locked inside as well.

Plan B. Searching for an open window.

We walked around to the back of the house. Yes! The window to the kitchen was cracked slightly. Now all I needed to do was remove the screen, climb up there and get myself in. Simple right? Wrong. You see, the screens on our windows were designed to deter would-be burglars with their befuddling trickery - a small latch that could only be accessed from the inside.

After several minutes and many attempts using various things found in the garage, I managed to remove the screen, as well as most of the skin on my knuckles. Hailey had long since become bored with my failed attempts, as she wandered around the back yard mumbling critiques of my "sub-par" yardwork. I then climbed up on a chair to open the window. As I began pushing it up, it suddenly stopped. Drat! Another anti-burglary device! This time on the inside. Our windows have small latches that can be set to limit how far the window can be opened. Unfortunately for me, they refrained the window from opening up far enough for me to climb through.

I had no choice, the latches were removed by force.

I then reached up inside the window frame and began to pull myself up into the window. Please keep in mind, this is much easier said than done. I soon found myself in a very pivotal moment. A moment of choice. A moment where I either backed down onto the chair or fully committed myself to going through the window. As I pushed off, the chair fell over and down off the deck, leaving my legs dangling. I started to fall out. I quickly grabbed the first thing I could find. Unfortunately for me, said thing had something really sharp on it. With my other hand, I grabbed the corner of the kitchen table and pulled myself up. My pelvic bones (which will be bruised in the morning) smashed up against the window frame. The pain caused me to leap forward, sending my helpless body crashing to the hardwood floor of our kitchen.

Hailey: "Hey Steve, when was the last time you edged? Oh, are you okay?"

I pulled myself from the floor, hobbled over to the back door and unlocked it, letting Hailey in. Her smirk spoke volumes. Her silence was quickly broken by an outburst of laughter.

Me: "Really funny!"

Now that we were back in the house and confident in our daughter's safety, we set out down the street to accomplish our initial task. When we got there, we discovered that someone had already taken the trash out. I thought to myself, "Hmm, well this sure blows."

But you want to know what really blows?



It turns out the door was never really locked.