Thursday, January 17, 2013


I had wanted a large walk-in pantry since before I could remember. Finally my dream had become a reality and I had the pantry of my dreams. It was large enough for a small bedroom. It was massive and all mine. I carefully stocked my pantry and sighed with ecstasy every time I entered.

This morning I waved to my husband as he left for work and began to get the supplies out of my pantry to bake something. Now there are a couple of things I forgot to mention about my pantry. It wasn't completely finished. The vent for the heating and air hadn't been put in and the door knob was on backwards. No big deal, I always left the door open so it was warm inside. 
As I entered my pantry this morning to gather the last of my supplies I heard a soft click behind me. Somehow the door had closed. No problem. I just needed a couple of things so it wasn't going to get cold before I opened it and returned to the kitchen. But to my surprise the door wouldn't open. Somehow it has locked behind me. 
I stood in stunned silence for a few seconds as reality set in. I was standing in a rapidly cooling room with no jacket, no cell phone, and a husband who wouldn't return home for many hours.

But no worries! I had a plan. A movie scene popped into my mind and I had the brilliant idea to pop the door off its hinges. Might be a bit difficult to explain to the hubby, but I would be warm. But my well stocked pantry was proving to be well stocked to eat, not escape. I ended up using a can to get the pins out, but nothing I did could ease that door off its hinges. My second plan of attack was to try the window. It's a bit far from the ground, but I should be able to manage just fine. I got the window open just fine, but I couldn't get the screen off. The tabs were on the outside. I seriously thought about cutting the screen (with the frozen peas?), but I remembered my husband muttering when he saw the bill for the windows. So I figured cutting up his nice screens should probably be the last option. By now I'm envisioning a very cold popsicle greeting my husband. I found some table clothes to wrap around me and I paced the room trying to come up with a solution.
Then the light bulb came on. In my pantry was a tiny door that led to the underneath of the stairs. It wasn't finished and I could probably escape that way. I gave a running push and bounced back like a ball. But after several kicks and a second running attempt I pushed through the sheet rock and landed in the foyer. 

But to my chagrin I couldn't get into the house. You see, we don't ever use the front door, our friends know to come in the side door. There is a door from the foyer into the living room. I had, at some point, locked this door as well since it was so rarely used.

My victory now paled as I realized that I was still stuck. I still couldn't get into the main part of the house. I would be okay until my husband came home, but I couldn't remember if I'd turned on the oven to preheat and I really, really didn't want to miss my lunch because I was waiting to be rescued.
So I headed outside with my table cloths wrapped around my shoulders to see if I could find a stray window open.
Luck was on my side! A window at the back of the house was open and since the tabs on those nice expensive screens pointed out I could get it off and the window came open. But to my dismay. . . I was too short to reach the window. I'd gotten this far. NOTHING was going to stop me now. I pulled lawn furniture and stray items over to the window and began my precarious assent. Windows were not made to be crawled through, I can tell you that right now. After I had half of my body hanging on either side of the window I realized I'd picked the only window in the entire house that didn't have something beneath it. If any one had seen me doing a headstand before I dumped myself on the floor I would have died.

But I have escaped from my prison! I am warm! I can eat lunch!
Now I just have to figure out how to explain the wonky door on the pantry, the hole in the foyer wall, the missing screen on the window, and my bruises. 

* This story did not happen to me personally. The names and places have been changed to protect the embarrassed.

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