Perfect, just perfect. Ugh.
2001-05-15, 7:43 a.m.

Ever feel like a bonehead? I do, I mean, I did. Last night when I was picking up B from daycare. I locked my keys in my car. Right there in the parking lot, right up front, where every arriving parent and departing staff member could see me. And of course it was raining.

I wanted to discreetly call P and ask him to leave work a bit early to come to my rescue. So I approached the gal at the front desk and asked to use the phone (whispering my little problem to her). Oh, no, we'll just call Security and they'll come right out and fix you up, she tells me. So she calls them and I have to wait 20 minutes with a squirming, TIRED, grumpy 14 month old who can't understand why we can't just get in the car and go home. But finally, a very nice man in a security car (a sporty camaro, wouldn't you know?) shows up and, after about 5 minutes, succeeds in opening my door. I felt very relieved to get into my car and away from the pitying eyes of the other parents. I could feel them all thinking to themselves, "There, but for the grace of God..."

Just as I was thanking the security officer and as he was about to drive away, he received another radio call -- from the daycare! It seems there was a parent there who had a flat tire and needed some help. Well, at least he didn't have to drive far.

I left the parking lot feeling a little better that I wasn't the only one having a rotten afternoon. Misery loves company, you know.

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