So. How many firetrucks have been to your house this year? This week?
Mine? Only one.
As it turns out ...
when the guy who repairs your clothes washer/plumbing fails to fully re-connect it and in cleaning up the massive amounts of water that are spilling into your laundry room you decide to hang sopping wet towels on the fence outside and then the door with the new self-locking mechanism shuts behind you with the dog and your sleeping baby inside the house
locksmiths (at least in Houston ... and yes plural) when you call them barefoot from a kind neighbors' house will refuse to come open your home because the sleeping baby inside prohibits them from rescuing you and requires you to call 9-1-1 who will then connect you to 'your local fire department' who will ask repeatedly if anyone has been hurt
even when you sheepishly (and with way too much stress, I mean she was sleeping the last time I checked, but leaving the house with her inside and outside of the range of my trusty baby monitor - which was locked inside anyway - is totally not kosher) describe that you are locked out of your home and your baby is locked in (and you do not include that your husband is in another state for work and you haven't exactly distributed the extra keys you just had made to the new locks your husband and father-in-law recently installed on your home)
the operator will send a firetruck with flashing lights (but no sirens, I mean, it was late at night) and four large firemen will jump out and start assessing your home with big flashlights even while you dash out of your neighbors' house to explain the situation before anyone wakes up your (hopefully still sleeping) baby
the kind firefighters will not look annoyed at your silliness but will check to see if any window is inadvertently unlocked (found one!) to avoid breaking a window to gain entry into your home
(one firefighter said, "we really don't want to break down the door ..." ... yeah, me either)
your dog may just think she has gone to heaven with her four new best friends ... and confirm your suspicion that she is NOT in fact a guard dog
(hello, Zoe, firefighters are our friends, but you could have tried to look menacing or even tried not to wag your tail and jump around as if you just knew they had a ball to throw for you)
and the kind firefighters will even tiptoe while you determine that the baby is indeed still fast asleep and has apparently spent the evening dreaming sweetly without a clue
they will say goodbye while you apologize profusely for your carelessness and then they will drive off into the night
leaving you to express gratitude to the One above and to clean up the mess in your laundry room
as if the whole locked-out-of-your-house-and-unbelievably-panicked interlude never happened
(April Fool's joke? Not so much, just Wednesday night.)