We recently went for dinner with some of Mike's Scottish relatives from the Watters side of his family... whom he had never met before. It was particularly interesting walking into the appointed restaurant when Mike had no idea what they looked like or what their names were. We agreed that to resolve this problem, he would enter and loudly announce that he was Mike from Canada and hope they identified themselves. It played out exactly that way. Bonus: they treated us. Nice.
On our way home, our party broke apart. Ashley headed off to the gym, while Mike and I caught the bus home. Now everytime we leave the house all together, we take a poll to see who has the key. There are only two keys between the three of us and generally one key cannot be found when it is needed. Hence, we double-check. This excursion had been no exception and Ashley assured us vehemently that she in fact had a key.
Unfortunately said key remained with her upon our parting. Mike and I arrived back to the flat and realized this. Couldn't we call Ashley, some might say? No, since none of us have a cell phone. Couldn't we wait until she got back then? Estimated time until Ashley returned home: 60-80 minutes. Too long for those of us who'd worn shorts to dinner.
We were obliged to consider criminal acts to force entry into the flat. Sadly, this is not the first time I've had to break into the place I call home. I also had to do so with my sister when I was younger when we got locked out. It was frighteningly easy with a little imagination.
I took stock of the situation while Mike tried to pry open the downstairs windows with little success. We had at our disposal: one second floor open window. One garden ledge. Two bobby pins. One broken clothes-drying horse. One garbage can. One baby plant. Two reasonably useful individuals. One kitten. All in all, not great resources. Surveying the upstairs window, the height and potential for serious damage should a climber fall made it an unappealing choice. We brainstormed for solutions.
Mike suggested we throw the kitten through the open window so that the kitty could then come open the door for us. He then bargained with the kitty, reminding her that she owed him for the bacon treat of the day before. The kitten responded by playing with a ball of garbage. Mike was fired from brainstorming.
Now Mike generally boasts his ninja talents to anyone who will listen (not many people, since he has zero ninja skills), I asked if they extended to lock picking skills and loaned him my bobby pins. Turns out he (and I) have zero lock picking skills too.
That left us with the dodgy option of scaling the wall to the open window. Seeing as neither of us were Spiderman, that meant someone was going to be a human ladder and someone was going to put their life at risk. No surprises, I volunteered to be the ladder with the condition that he not stand on my head. Shockingly, this plan worked extremely well. Mike stood on my knee as I boosted his other foot up to my shoulder and slid up the wall till I was standing, at which point he somehow moved his feet to the ledge of the window frame and then chin-up'ed through the open window above.
Not to be a nay-sayer, but I definitely didn't think he could do it. Way to prove me wrong, Mike!
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