Murphy’s Law

Not to sound like I’m starting a poorly written college paper, but Murphy’s law states: “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.” To say that the hubby and I experienced a cold dose of Murphy’s Law last night may sound extreme, but I struggle to find another term that accurately fits the serendipitous series of events that lead up to me soaking wet, mostly naked, covered in dog crap, and breaking and entering.

Let’s start from the beginning shall we?

Most Sunday evenings around our house are generally saved for relaxation and mental preparation for the work week ahead. Rarely do we ever leave the house, however this Sunday we had a very important little person to meet, who just made her grand entrance into this world.*  We traveled to the other side of town while angry, monsoonal clouds collected over the city. Soon thunder rattled the house and we were treated with a torrential downpour*. Treated, I say, because we live in the high desert and are going on record for a twenty-year drought.

Soon, as we cooed and coddled the new baby, we learned that the power was completely out in the area of the grid that was our neighborhood.* Worse things have happened. Sure it would be hot, but we could open all the doors and windows and get some air. Living with the world’s most prepared man had its perks in times like these. We had roughly twenty flashlights stowed throughout the house at any given time, and not that long ago Hubby spent a day in the garage making forty-hour candles. Some food may spoil, but hopefully the power would be on before we had to worry about that. Theoretically even it was the End of Days we’d be good for at least a few weeks.

After a nice visit, we made our way back home around dusk, driving through a post-apocalyptic cityscape where the power was gone and only lightning lit the sky. Incidentally, if you ever really want to worry about the state of mankind, turn off traffic lights and see how people handle four way stops - not very reassuring. We made it home safely, but it was just about the we were turning into the driveway realized we had a bigger problem.

We were locked out of the house*.

How, you may ask, do two grown ass people, one of whom is a well-known prepper for any and all unlikely situations, get locked out of their own home? Well I won’t go into the hairy details, but because we took my car out (which we rarely ever do*) we had no keys (because I recently took the spare out of my car*) so our only way into the house required power*, which we still did not have. Well I guess that’s the all you need to know. We sat in the driveway in dumbfounded silence just staring at the garage door. Rain continued to bang against the roof of my car, mocking us. I  pressed the garage door opener every couple of seconds, thinking maybe this time it would work, much to the chagrin of my hubby.

"Do you have your car keys? Maybe there's something in there we can -"

He stopped me, "Babe, if I had my keys we could just go in the front door*."

"Right. Want me to break in through a window?"

"We turned off the swamp** before we left*."

"There's got to be a way in."

"This house is a fortress. You have no idea how many hours I spend imaging different ways someone could try and break in and then correct those flaws*."

"Maaww" I gave him a smooch. "You’re so good.”

“Too good, it seems.”

We sat and thought for a few minutes more, until I saw the lightbulb turn on above his head.

“I have a plan.”

I was given explicit instructions not to give the Internet a detailed plan on how to break into our  house but I will say this, it required a lot of awkward maneuvering around pokey bushes and McGyver like engineering skills.

Tools acquired:

-One flashlight from the glovebox of my car.

-One spatula left out on the grill.

-One creative husband

-One soaking wet wife

(I forgot to mention that I was wearing a new skirt and top, which may not seem like a big deal but I NEVER shop and if I do I RARELY buy anything, so of course this would be the day I wore an outfit that I actually gave a shit about.*)

We jumped out of the car and into the ran as we made our way to the side gate. Our neighbors were out sitting on their porch watching the rain. We reassured them that we in fact lived there and were not breaking in. As we rounded the corned into our own backyard we discovered the once dried out sand pit, was now a muddy swamp strong with the scent of re-hydrated dog -

“Crap!*”

“It reeks back here.”

Every step sent my thin soled, sparkly sandals a little deeper into the stinky “mud.” I rubbed my arms for warmth, shaking like a wet poodle as Hubby manufactured a way into the house.

“Here, babe can you fit through here?”

I squared my shoulders and stuck out my chin, I was just the woman for the job.

“I can do this. Just push me up a little. Oh and I don’t want to ruin my new skirt.”

I started pulling the skirt over my head and felt Hubby assisting me. The skirt got caught for a moment, then popped off. I looked down to discover that I was now topless as well.*  The look I gave Hubby was one he was very familiar with. Here it is as represented by an emoticon " :-| ".

“What? I wanted to make sure your shirt didn’t get ruined.”

“Sure.”

Moments later after struggling against sharp stucco and gravity, I fell into the house, muddy, scratched, still cold and still wet, but in! I felt my way through the darkness, tripping on confused doggies, and piles of laundry until I reached the back door.

“We made it.”

It was SECONDS after our congratulatory high-five that the lights flickered back to life*.

Whatever we did to upset the balance of life has hopefully now been corrected.

 

Current Song: “Oceans” by Jay-Z, Frank Ocean

*Indicates a leading event

**For those who don’t live in a dry climate, a swamp cooler is used in place of air-conditioners. Air is sucked through a pad soaked with water, outputting cool air that is blown throughout the house. Swamp coolers are rendered useless in rain and humidity.