My son locked us - both he and me - out of the house tonight, right around 7:00 pm.

He has a thing about shutting all doors - so as I was putting his sweatshirt on and had the phone in my ear, trying to talk to my friend, ElHeffe, about a cow butting him in the head - HDToddler shut the door.

But ... I have my phone.

So, I call HDHusband is waiting to get into operate, and won't be home for at least another hour. I head over to my neighbor's house and they graciously ask what kind of wine I want: red or white. I answer, "Fast". With a glass of red in hand, I wait for my husband to come home and let me back in the damn house.

(you would think I had a key hidden, but NO! That's LOGICAL!)

I listen to ElHeffe's story about the cow (after I call him back, laughing my ass off - and freezing my ass off). Apparently he taunted a cow that wouldn't get in the pen, as a joke to his buddies, and said to it, "Come on, come and get me you stupid sonofabitch!" and the cow headbutted him. And in some random turn of talk, he tells me how a mutual friend used to take a van with 6 guys in it and bang one girl - just driving it around Moffatt County. This, my friends, is news to me. I'm hoping I can use some Brain Bleach and make this news go away. Makes my crotch shrivel just thinking about it ... but I digress ...

Back to me being cold and standing in 50 degree weather with a toddler who is saying to me, "Momma, 'side! (for inside):

I had been cooking homemade sloppy joes, and had already whipped up some potato salad. And there it sat ... in my house ... not getting eaten ... and getting overcooked. HDHusband ate some when he got home, and he didn't say anything but good things, either. Damn straight, Skippy.

Be looking for me at Home Depot tomorrow morning. I'll be the one finding something special to hide a key in, and making an extra for my neighbor, too.

Sigh.