Fun story from last week, involving the dogs, exercise, and my own stupidity.
I feel like I haven't really shared any STORIES lately, so here's a good one.
Last Friday, it was gorgeous outside. Unbelievably so. 75 degrees, sunny, a very light breeze. Pretty much the perfect day.
Instead of going to Curves, I decided I'd go home and take the dogs for a run. (I pretty much hate running, which just goes to show how lovely it was outside that I was willing to deal with it.)
I pull on my workout clothes, grab a baseball cap, and I'm out the door with the leashes. Garage door slams behind me. I freeze, then slowly turn around and try the knob.
Yep. Locked myself out. Again.
Well, no big deal, I thought, Phillip will be home by the time I finish running.
Jack, Leia, and I enjoy a nice run through the woods. I thoroughly tired them out, which I was pretty smug about. We've been running for about 45 minutes, which I figure is plenty of time (and honestly, about all I could take).
We head back toward the house, only to find that my husband STILL isn't home. I whip out my cell phone to call and find out where he is.
Phillilp: I'm still at work; I'll be home in about half an hour.
Me: Oh. I locked myself out. Again.
Phillip: Wow, that sucks.
Me: Yeah, no kidding. Guess we'll keep running.
So the three of us headed down the lane toward my MIL's home, only to find that she wasn't home either.
However, my brother-in-law is standing outside talking on his cell phone.
I tell him my story, about what an idiot I am for locking myself out of the house AGAIN.
The crazy part? He says, "Yeah, I'm locked out, too."
I mean, really, what are the odds?
Now for the moral of the story:
You should always leave a spare key at someone else's house. And my choice should not be my MIL's house.