Keys, that is. Duh, right? Well I thought my garage door opener would work just as good as I put it in the cupholder of Abby Kate's stroller and took off this afternoon. Not so. I was out for no more than a half-hour, I came back, pushed the button to open the garage... and nothing. Dang thing, I thought. I angled it a different way and pushed again. Nothing. For the next 10 minutes I wore that little device out. I walked up and down the driveway, pushing it up high, pushing it down low. Pushing it upside down, pushing right side up. Pushing it and holding down for a few seconds and pushing it real quick. Pushing it standing on my head and pushing it hopping on one foot. Ironically, it was the hopping that worked. Ha, kidding.
I was certain the stupid thing was accidentally reprogrammed or maybe it was out of batteries. But the little green light was lighting up each time I pushed it, sooooo, who knows! All I know is that I was stuck outside with my infant daughter under a dark, cloud-filled sky with no way in and no way to drive anywhere. Mike wasn't scheduled to be home until after 7, and this happened at 1:30! I tried to call him about five times or so, then sent him an urgent text. He didn't receive any of them because he was in class and his phone was on vibrate in his bag.
I tried to see if I could find an unlocked window with no luck. So there I sat on the front porch, holding Abby Kate, watching the pouring rain for almost two hours. Once the rain let up, I walked up and down my street, knocking on doors to see if I could switch batteries with someone else's opener just to see if it worked. But most everyone must've thought I was some sort of solicitor. There were three cars in one drive, one of them a police car. Oddly, no one was home? Riiiight. Or maybe they saw me being all weird hopping on one foot in my driveway and decided to keep the crazies out. The teenager across the street tried to help me, but he didn't have the right battery.
Anyway, I continued on until I came upon a very nice neighbor who not only opened his door, but let us come in while he searched for a battery for me. His wife, still in her pajamas (at 2:30 p.m. - I know, right? I NEVER do that. [grin]), had jumped behind a wall in the kitchen as if her floor length, long sleeve, terry cloth, zip-up robe was going to flash me an ankle or something crazy like that. She was super nice though. While her husband was digging through his battery collection, she was asking me where we'd moved from, how old AK was... and then she stopped mid-sentence, her face lit up and she yelled "Oh! the electricity's out! That's what it is!"
Ah-ha! I said. That explains it. She went on to tell me that it had been out for the last hour and "they" say it'll be off until 4 p.m. As soon as I was about to blow steam out of my ears, a little florescent desk light behind her started to glow. You'd have thought I'd just won the lottery. I squealed and thanked them, then turned toward my house and pushed that stupid button one last time. The deafening screech of the garage door going up was now music to my ears!
I'm glad I didn't pound that little piece of crap into the ground like I considered so many times. However, as many times as I pushed that button, I'm sure the battery actually is running low now.
The moral of the story: Don't trust your garage door opener. Always take a key! OK, I may very well be the only one who didn't have this particular wisdom. But whatever. :)