Locked out

A couple nights ago, I was very tired, so I went to bed early.  George stayed up for a while.  I thought he could handle locking up and getting himself to bed.  I was wrong.

He went outside to turn the water off in the garden.  He was dressed in his under shorts.  Tighty whities.  Egyptian bun huggers. Big boy diapers.  You know the kind...  Oh, and black dress shoes.  No socks.  (Sorry I had to lodge that image into your memory bank, but it pertains, really)

Well, at the moment he was closing the door, he had the horrifying feeling that he had not disengaged the knob lock.  Too late, he fumbled and, in his desperation, slammed the door.  With sinking heart, he tried the knob.  Locked.  Okay, think...   No, really, think...  Nothing.

He went to the front door and rang the doorbell.  Again.  Again.  And again.  Apparently, I was really out by then.  Anyway, he started a circuit around the entire house, searching for an unlocked door or window.  Nothing until: voila!  The window above the kitchen sink!  He had not yet locked it!

He ran to the window, perused the height, the planter below, the size of the window, and decided he could do this!  He got a folding chair from the lanai/Florida room/screened room thing and stood on it.  It sunk six inches into the soft soil of the planter, taking parsley and chives with it.  He exchangde it for a tall bar stool from the Tiki bar.  It sunk eight inches into the soil, tearing out oregano and cilantro.  But, tipping slightly and sinking quickly, it held long enough for him to open the window, get a leg into the house, and a foot into the sink that had his late night snack bowl in it.  Full of water.  

To appreciate this, you must know that George has very long, skinny legs.  White.  And wide shoulders.  And the window is smaller than he is.  He high centered on the sill and nearly screamed like a woman.  He had almost become a woman.  Sweating and in pain with sore crotch and wet shoe, he made it into the house, to lay on the kitchen floor, panting from the exertion.

Telling me about his excellent adventure the next day, I asked 'Why didn't you just use the extra key?'  He said 'We don't have one'  'Yes, remember, we decided to put it right here?' and produced it.

For a few moments, he looked at the key like he was trying to set it on fire with his eyes, then at me.  'Well, shit.' he said as he walked away.