Running behind for our appointment, I called to Kim, "Got the keys?" like I always do.
"Yup," came the reply from the sidewalk.
I locked up, and we went for the appointment.
Close to an hour later, we return, to the shocking realization that the house key was not on the ring.
We decided to try a set of keys that the MacPhersons were holding in trust for us. A short car-ride saw us in Sherwood Park's illustrious outskirts. The keys were transfered, and visiting took place. Thinking ahead, I grabbed a hammer and a slotted screwdriver.
Good thinking, Johnstone. Turns out, they were the old keys from before we changed the knob.
So, twenty minutes with the hammer and screwdriver (and enough noise to outdo the one roofer that actually showed up) and the bits and pieces of what used to be our doorknob filled a Safeway bag.
So now, on my list of accomplishments, which include smashing a leaf-blower to bits, building stairs with a sledge hammer and chainsaw (sounds like you'd undo the stairs with that) and (unintentionally) setting a computer on fire, I can add breaking and entering. Not the crime, but I broke and I entered.
Later.
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9 comments:
I like the fact that I sound totally blameless in this version of the story.
Baaahhhhaaaaaaa! You slay me!
oh - congrats on a record number of updates!!!!!
YOu almost lost your nuts to a video-game chair.
And now you have child.
And are too cheap to call locksmith.
A locksmith never even occurred to me. I was too busy taking out frustrations.
Ah, the final attempted revenge by "The Game."
I fear no game. Vinny T. and the Brown Ravens helped me past THAT obstacle.
NFL Head Coach sounds a lot like The Game.
Dylan: you should play Head Coach (AKA THE GAME 2007) and give us a report.
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