We were leaving the house late this afternoon to run a couple of errands and do a bit of shopping. When I got home from work I was so exhausted I had to go lay down a bit and recover. Mostly due to the cat roaming around the house, singing the song of her people all night.
I had taken my shoes off before lying down on the bed. So had to put them on when the man was sitting in the car, with the engine running, waiting on me to get my ducks in a row... we've been doing this for nearly thirty-three years. Him: being impatient, sitting in the car with the engine running, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Me: dashing out the door with things flapping, in a pell-mell fashion, allowing him to make me feel rushed and ill-prepared to leave.
So as I was hurrying myself along, with my shoelaces not yet tied, I shut the door, and caught one of the shoestrings under the door. Naturally, the door locked. Naturally, I did not have a key. Completely stalled out. It would not have gotten any notice at all! You certainly would not be reading about it here if I could have untangled myself by myself. But I found it necessary to confess, standing there at the door, stalled out, to get a key and release myself from that foolish situation.
But - honestly: if that's the first time I have gotten my clothing caught in thirty three years of rushing out of the house with something flapping, I think that's a pretty good average, don't you?
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