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Spare Key


Before I get into what happened involving a spare key, I would first like to start with post with a huge congratulations and thank you.

First, congratulations to all the graduates of the Class of 2012! May your future continue to be bright and may your celebrations be long.

Source


The second congratulations goes to:

*Sary Rodriguez*

She is the winner of my Birthday Taste Necklace Giveaway! This is what she won:


Isn't it awesome?

Let’s all give her a round of applause.

*pauses for applause*

And I would like to take this moment to thank everyone who participated in the giveaway. If you didn’t win, fret not, I have more Taste related giveaways to come.

Now, on to my story involving a spare key.

Here’s the scenario:

I’m one of those people who has to lock her bedroom every time she leaves it because my brother has the tendency to come in and use my laptop even when he has a perfectly good computer in his room. The reason for this is because he visits certain websites that potentially sneak viruses into the computer. It’s a stupid argument in that he doesn’t give a damn if my computer gets a virus so long as his doesn’t. This coming from a computer engineer who has the best anti-virus software. Like I said, stupid.

Anyway, that’s the reason why I lock my bedroom. This is also the reason why I have to keep the spare key with my original key at all times because if he gets a hold of the spare key…well…

Going back to the point of this post…

I’m in the middle of writing a new novel. When I’m in this creative state, I think about the story most of the time, which causes me to be absent-minded. One day, when I had to go out, I prepared my things as usual. It’s a routine of mine to put my keys inside my bag before I leave. During this particular instance, I thought I did. Imagine my horror when I got home and found my keys to be missing.

Missing keys.

Locked room.

Spare key with original key in the same keychain.

Mortification.

So, more than a little ashamed of myself, I went back downstairs and told my mother about what happened. Thankfully she didn’t get mad. She merely burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Laughter I will take.

Then she reminded me to separate my spare key and hide it somewhere since she is aware of what my brother does.

Now, on to the predicament of getting my door open.

Since it was pretty late to call a locksmith (which movie is this phrase famous for?) and no one in the house knew how to pick a lock (mental note: a handy skill to learn), my mother and I hatched a plan to use the ladder we had at the back of the house to climb up my balcony and use the open sliding doors to enter my room. Naturally, being the younger of the two, I volunteered to make the climb. My mother said, “I’ll do it. I’ve been climbing trees all my life.” As if that’s a qualification to climb a ladder onto a balcony at her age! But I didn’t argue and resolved to hold on to the ladder instead. If she fell, the pool would catch her…hopefully.

*shakes head*

I will never forget that night.

I think I aged a decade watching my fifty-one-year-old mother ascend a ladder and climb over the railing of my balcony.

Long story short, she managed to accomplish the feat, now she will be joining a circus, and I have resolved to hide my spare key somewhere in the house.

*sigh*

Aren’t moms awesome?

4 comments:

  1. LOL! I love that your mum just burst out laughing! Mine would probably click her tongue and nag at me about it instead, haha!

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    Replies
    1. I think she knew it would happen to me eventually. *laughs*

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  2. Sounds like a story right out of my life...and yes, moms rock!

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