You Can't Rely on Dogs

I thought I would share with you another slice of my disaster magnet life. Again, let me stress that I am an intelligent, highly capable, somewhat educated woman. But for some reason, minor disasters seem to follow me everywhere. I'm like the Pied Piper for mishaps and mayhem.

This particular event happened when I was pregnant with Bubba and I was given a baby shower over at my mom's house. After it was over, I started loading all my goodies and loot into my station wagon like anyone would--while my Mom and sister went into the kitchen to chat. I know what you're thinking. How could they be so thoughtless to not help out a pregnant woman, especially a daughter/sister? In their defense, I'm sure they were only looking out for me. You know, trying to help me keep my strength up or some other garbage like that.

So I'm loading up my car which I have backed into the driveway and I have a LOT of stuff. I have very generous friends. I don't want my purse and keys to get buried in the back so I leave them on the passenger seat while I'm loading. At night. In the dark. By myself.

I toss in the last gift and that's when I do something monumentally stupid. Just as the hatch is closing, I decide I need something out of the back and I reach over to stop it from closing. Wait for it...I close the door.on.my.FINGERS. I know, brilliant, right? It gets better. I think, maybe I can just pull my fingers out so I tug really hard while trying not to cry because it frickin' hurts. I get 2 of my fingers out but my index and middle fingers are still stuck and now, with the others out of the way, the door closes that much tighter.

Here is where I need to stop and explain something. My parents house is basically in the shape of an "L". I was in the driveway at the top of the L, my mom and sister were in the kitchen at the end of the small part of the L--all the way at the other end of the house. My dad was in his room at the corner of the L, watching TV with Howdy tucked into bed beside him.

I've now got my right hand stuck in the back of my wagon and I want to cry because it hurts but I know everyone is inside. But I should just be able to yell for help, right? I yelled. And yelled. And yelled some more. Nobody heard me. Actually, that's not entirely true. The neighbor's horse started running around in circles in the pasture. I could only hear it though because it was too dark to see. Also a dog started barking somewhere in the neighborhood. I was hoping that he was starting one of those barking chains like they did in "101 Dalmatians" and that help was on its way in the form of canines who were trained to fetch car keys and help idiot humans.

I kept yelling for my mom, dad, sister, anyone, but no one came. I did finally get through to someone though. From my dad's open window I could hear Howdy calling, "Mommy?" Yes, you read that right. My dad's window was OPEN and he still couldn't hear me. He's not the most alert man during the daytime but put him in front of the TV at night? Forget it.

I tried not to panic. I figured, I'm pregnant and have a lot of stuff to carry out. Surely my mom or sister is going to come into the living room soon to help me and then they will find me, grab my keys off the passenger seat where they were now taunting me, and get me out. Nobody came.

I started to get desperate. I thought, if I could throw something at the house, maybe the noise would cause someone to come out and investigate. So I took off my shoe and threw it. Did I mention that my right hand was the one that was stuck and I'm right handed? And also that I throw like a girl? My shoe landed about 3 feet shy of the house. Which meant I needed to try again, right? The next shoe made it farther but it only made a slight tapping noise as it hit. I may have started to cry at this point.

How long was I going to be stuck out here? I'm 8 months pregnant--things could happen. Dad had a grandkid tucked next to him and a sitcom--he wasn't going anywhere. Hubby was at home, knowing I'd be home whenever us girls could stop flapping our jaws long enough for us to actually say goodbye. Mom and sis were doing who-knows-what at the far end of the house. Surely someone had to be wondering about me. Right?

They did eventually start to wonder about me. After almost a half an hour. I saw my mom come into the living room finally and I started shouting. Luckily, the window was open so she heard me pretty quickly. She got the keys and opened the door for me, saving my fingers from having to be amputated. By that time, they had gone numb and when the circulation started moving again, they really started to hurt.

My dad had indeed heard Howdy calling for me but just figured he was asking a general question about where Mom was, not that he was trying to alert anyone to my predicament. As far as the barking chain? Yeah, it so doesn't work. I never saw a single dog. I always have been more of a cat person. Did I learn a lesson from all of this? Definitely. Now I have someone else load all my stuff for me.