Yesterday afternoon we decided to go into downtown Hillsborough and spend a couple hours. We parked on a side street and walked down to the river walk to visit the stick house.
Then, we walked back up the hill to the library and checked out some books and DVDs. The kids each picked one book to read while we got dinner, and we took the rest to the car. When we got to the car, I realized I had left it unlocked, so I dropped off the books, locked the car, and we headed to the local pizza place, Radius.
We had a nice dinner and headed outside to find out it was Last Friday, which is the last Friday of the month, and an event with live music, balloon animals, arts and crafts and a really nice, laid back vibe. Eleanor even learned how to throw a pot! We have it at home now, along with instructions on how to fire it in a couple days when it is fully dry.
After we had our fill, we went back to the car, which is when we discovered it: wood, jammed in the door lock.
Now, our key fob is out of batteries, so we don’t even use it. The car has one keyhole. It was dark and had been raining on and off all afternoon. There were ways this could be worse, but it wasn’t too great. The piece of wood had swollen from the rain, and wouldn’t budge. After both of us trying, I went to a local art gallery to borrow some pliers – but the wood was too soggy. After about 45 minutes of fiddling and growing increasingly agitated, Eleanor started crying and apologizing. If you know Ele, this wasn’t exactly a mystery for us. We knew she had done it. We thanked her for telling us, and told her the situation was what made us mad, not her.
Finally, we called Triple A, and had them come out. Since originally it was going to be an hour for them to arrive, Bob went and found some police officers, who were nice but no help whatsoever. The Triple A guy showed up from a job in Chapel Hill and got the car open in less than 5 minutes, so we headed home, tired.
While we were waiting for the locksmith, Eleanor kept saying “when will she be here?” “Who, Ele?” “The girl…the man or woman who will fix the lock?” I find it interesting that she assumed the locksmith was a woman (good for her!) and when she thought about it, she decided to be inclusive (even better!). I know it wasn’t a conscious decision of hers, but I’m glad this is her default.