Trauma

Friday morning, when I got to work, I noticed that my phone was dead. Not too concerned, I usually just talk to Kev. So, I put it away and went on with the day. At 5:30, when he picked me up, I plugged it in the car charger and we went to Walmart to get some paint and “stuff.” Got out to the car a little after 6 and we decided to stop at KFC to get supper. Miss Kat has been nagging us all week to bring KFC home. Before we went in, I checked my phone to see if she’d called, because she usually calls several times a day.

One message. From 8 a.m. It was Andy saying “Mom, Kat and I locked ourselves out of the house. Kat doesn’t have her phone and I don’t even have the pickup keys, so Josh is picking us up and is taking us to school.”

Fine, except for one minor detail…what was Kat going to do after school? Andy had a track meet out of town. Kat got out of school at 3:15. It was now 6:30. So I called Kat’s phone. No answer. I called the house. No answer. I then called Andy and asked just what his sister was doing after school since she couldn’t get in the house. His answer? “Gee I don’t know. I guess she’s at home.” Which ticked me off. I mean, he left knowing she couldn’t get in the house. He left not knowing what she was going to do, and knowing she didn’t have her phone on her. Men (and I use that term loosly) are jerks.

So, I hoped that she had either gone home, or had gone home with a friend. Kev has told her, that if she's locked out of the house, to just go wait in the shop till we got home. But, we are usually home by 6:00 at the latest. We got supper and hurried home. But, I was worried.

We turned down our road and there she was, with both dogs, heading to town, bawling her head off. She’d rigged up two rope leashes for the dogs. She turned around and ran home and straight into my arms, sobbing hysterically. She was a mess—emotionally, fine physically.

She’d rode the bus home, sat in the diesel (which had the key in it) and listened to the radio, read her book, went to the shop and played with the kittens, waiting for us. Poor girl waited for 4 hours. She tried to break into the house with screws and a knife and who knows what other devises—left lots of burrs and scratches on the locks. She’d cried some, but wasn’t worried, because she expected us by 6:00 at the latest. And then 6:00 became 7:00 and we still weren't home.

By then, she was worried about US. She started imagining that we had been in a wreck. She imagined that we were stranded somewhere. She imagined that she’d be stuck outside, alone, and would starve to death, or be taken by some child molester. She imagined that she'd have to wait until 10:00 when Andy got home and they'd be stuck outside, alone, without any parents. She was scared. She’d been outside, waiting for 4 hours. She was really scared.

Me, I was worried too. I was worried about her being home scared, alone, no way to communicate with us, or anyone. I was hoping that she’d have gone home with one of her friends and left a message on the machine at home. I wanted Kev to drive much faster to get home to my little girl…One additional problem..we didn’t have a key to any doors either! We had one key that we knew opened one door. Oh, we were given a handful of keys when we bought the house, but could only get ONE to work. Kev and I relied on the garage door opener to get us in, and it hasn’t been working right, sometimes, it wouldn’t open the garage doors. So, I was afraid she’d be scared, and I was afraid that the garage door wouldn’t open, and we wouldn’t be able to get in, and Kev would have to break either a door or a window. And, then he’d be mad and so I’d be left dealing with a mad husband and a scared daughter, which would make ME mad…because Men are jerks…

So, of course, when we got home, she was emotionally a mess. Fortunately, the garage door opener DID work. We got into the house. It took me several minutes to get her calmed down. It took me several minutes to calm myself down too. She was more upset than I have ever seen her. I really didn’t know what to do. So, I let her cry and hugged her, held her on my lap, let her talk about everything she'd done, and about everything that had scared her and everything she had imagined might have happened to us. Her father thought she was being overdramatic…men are such jerks. He wasn’t very sympathetic and told her she shouldn’t have gotten scared, because she should know that we’d come home eventually…men are such jerks.

Me, I let her cry. I know, if it had been me, I’d have been just as scared. She was fine within a few minutes, probably 15-30 minutes. The KFC helped her tremendously :), but she was wiped out emotionally.

So, Kev put on a new lock, one with extra keys. He brought an extra key to town with us today to get a copy for Kat, a copy for Andy, one for him, and one for me and one to hide out in the shop—just in case. We had a conversation with our children…asking questions like, why didn’t Andy call his dad when he couldn’t get me…and why didn’t they make a plan and let us know? And why on earth did they walk out of the house without pickup keys and house key and phone. Just what in the world were they doing? And we discussed what Kat should do next time (not that any of us think there will be a next time.) But, she’s ok. And we are finally getting much needed keys made. But I sure wish we could have done it all without all the trauma.