Drama worthy of Days of our Lives

So....hopefully child services doesn't hunt me down after this post, because this is way worse than the time I made tuna noodle casserole and forgot to put the tuna in.

What happened was, I was doing a Mary Kay Christmas Open House last night and my sister was helping me. She picked up the key for the room we were renting before 5pm, when the Chamber of Commerce building closed for the night.

At just before 7 pm we get there, unlock the door and go in. I deposit my coat and purse and run to the bathroom, 'cause I have to do that a lot these days. She brings in her 5 month old baby in his car seat/carrier. Then we go back out to my car to bring in all the wonderful Mary Kay stuff.

She props the door open, but I say, "Let's close it so we don't let all the heat out."

Door closed, we unload my car onto the sidewalk and go back to open the door.

It is locked.

Key to door is inside.

Baby is inside.

My purse, cell phone, and car keys are inside.

My sister's purse, cell phone and car keys are inside.

It is way after 5 and everything is closed downtown.

I tell my sister to wait by the door where she can at least see her baby. I waddle my pregnant self down to the one building whose lights are still on. It turns out to be a gym. There are 3 guys inside working out, but the door is locked and they have music turned up super loud (I can hear it outside) so they don't hear me or see me banging on the window. I decide they might assault me instead of helping me anyway, so I seek elsewhere.

Think to self--3 blocks down is a Dollar General, that will still be open, and I can at least call the police.

Luck is with me and only 1 and 1/2 blocks down is a little coffee shop still open. I happen to have met the owner and know he is nice--though he probably doesn't remember me.

I go in and ask if I can borrow his phone and a phone book--ashamedly explaining why I need to borrow said items. I look in phone book and he oh so helpfully and non-judgementaly finds the home phone number of the secretary at the Chamber of Commerce.

We reach her husband who gives us her cell number. She is almost home, but turns around and comes the 20 minute drive back into town for the sake of the baby.

The coffee shop guy loans me his coat after asking where mine is and I am forced to admit that it is locked inside the building as well.

I waddle myself back to the Chamber building to give my sister the good news. Her baby will not be locked in the building alone overnight.

The lady comes and lets us in and explains that the door only permanently unlocks if you use an allan wrench at a certain place on the inside of the door. She says perhaps they should include one with the key. I want to say that perhaps just warning people that the door doesn't unlock permanently would be a good start--but I'm worried that I'll sound critical--so I don't say it.

She did drive all the way back into town for us, after all.

My sister and I attempt to compose ourselves and set up for the open house--some of the guests are already there by now and know for themselves what gooses we are.

When I tell DH about the whole thing later, he comments that I should have kept the key with me all the time.

I begin whining that my maternity dress doesn't have pockets (a pet peeve of mine that is definitely justified by the preceeding drama.)