We'd returned from yet another successful Jingles session and it was only 11.30 but for some reason I'd had my head up my arse all morning. Not literally you understand. If I could do that I should join the circus. Or go on Britain's Got Talent! Or move to Amsterdam!
Monday is bin day and this week it was the turn of the black bin with all the proper rubbish in it, including nappies.
The boy was obviously relaxed and happy after his morning of singing, dancing and drum banging and decided to reward me for taking him out with a not too fragrant present in his pants.
He needed changing before lunch!
Incidentally the only way to keep the boy still on a changing mat now is to give him something to hold! I have learnt that needs to be something wipe clean, like a toy car and not a soft toy. Poor Iggle Piggle copped it the other week when the boy had a particularly delightful "teething nappy" and we proved the theory that shit really does stick to a blanket!
Having dealt with the boys bum and hearing the bin man cometh I wanted to get rid of the offending bag quickly so it wasn't left festering for another fortnight! The bin was just by the front door. I'll pop it out while he plays for a second I thought.
Our front porch has a two door system! I closed the outer door so the boy couldn't run into the road. That much I'd thought of. What I hadn't given enough thought to was the inner door.
It's a Yale lock!
It was as I plopped the nappy in the bin that I heard the slam and a little cheeky voice saying
I opened the outer door to see the boy grinning at me from behind a shut and very immovable front door.
He'd locked me out!
"Bye Bye" he said, waving and laughing at me.
The innocence of his reaction, to what he thought was clearly a game, would've been sweet if it hadn't been for the fact I couldn't get back in.
Just at that point my neighbour came out of his house. He checked round the back for me but I'd left no windows open. The only option was the window at the front.
He went and fetched a step ladder.
Only the top portion of our windows open. They are small and not very wide. My neighbour is a big bloke and ruled himself out of getting through it straight away.
"We need someone skinny" he said "So that rules you and me out"
Now I know I had more pressing matters on my mind, like getting back to my 18 month old son who was currently home alone, but kick a girl when she's down why don't you! My son's locked me out, I'm beside myself with fear and worry, the boy's getting hysterical, I am currently favourite for "worst mother in the world" award and I get a "you're fat" insult!
I hauled my obviously fat arse up the step ladder and poked my head through the window.
By this point the boy realised this was not a game and Mummy couldn't get back in. I'm not sure if he was missing me or just concerned that he wasn't getting any lunch but he was crying and freaked out.
Oscar arrived from upstairs and miaowed constantly to add to the chaos. As I peered down two sets of soulful eyes peered up, both wanting food and their Mummy back.
I tried to encourage the boy to get my handbag from the dining room so I could lean down and pick it up from the side table under the window but he didn't get what I was saying. I knew in my heart it was too advanced for him but I was going to try anything.
Keys! He knows keys. Keys was one of his first words.
"Can you get Mummy's keys?" I asked over and over again but it was a fruitless task. He was gone to the dark side of hysteria and I wasn't going to be far behind him.
Just then the Fed Ex man arrived.
Hubby's job means we get regular parcels delivered on an almost daily basis so I know all the delivery guys to chat too.
This one was tall, young, athletic and as skinny as a bean pole.
Just the lovely ole' job as we say in this corner of the UK.
I have no idea what the boy made of a strange man posting himself through our front window but I can only say I am eternally grateful to him, his kindness and his nimble frame.
I hugged the boy within an inch of his life when I got back in.
So what have I learnt.
My neighbour thinks I'm fat!
I will no longer moan about having to answer the door all day to sign for hubbies boxes.
I will put the door on the latch or carry a key or better still sew a spare key in my bra so I'm never without it.
Side tables are sometimes called occasional tables because occasionally they break the fall of a Fed Ex man descending from a step ladder and falling through your window.
I will always close my windows when I go out because I've now seen how easy it would be to get burgled.
And most importantly..
Never underestimate the kindness of strangers.