Hella Stella

My BH and I had a romantic evening planned for last night. We finally hooked up the DVD player, so we figured we'd curl up on the couch and watch some cheesy movies until we got sleepy. I made some snacks while my BH took Morty out for a pee.

A few minutes later, I heard the door open. My BH comes in with a worried look on his face.

"I've locked the keys in the car we borrowed," he says.

"What?"

"The car we borrowed. The radio is on inside, the keys are in the ignition, and the doors are locked."

"Fuck."

Morty grunts with excitement, like he knows we're screwed. Evil puppy. But so cute.

I try to do the math. It's 10pm at night. We're broke. What are the odds of finding a locksmith at this hour, and even if we find one, what are the odds that we'd be able to afford one? Slim to none.

I call my mother, who always has a good answer in times of need.

"Mom, how does one break into a car?" I ask.

"Oh, there are a few ways," she explains cheerfully. She tells me about my options. I make notes. I love my mother.

A few minutes later, I leave the house with my BH and puppy in tow. I am carrying two hangers and a roll of duct tape. My BH had the foresight to leave the window open a crack, but according to my mom, that's all I need.

And you know what? We got it unlocked. It took about twenty minutes and several failed attempts, but we did it. No romantic curling up on the couch, but we did have a victory high five before we headed home and passed out. (Morty does a high five too!)

The moral of the story is: Keep your duct tape handy and your mother on speed dial, and all shall be well.