Locked Out at the Zoo

I would have thought it was a lot funnier if it had happened to someone else. I'm sure our family looked hilarious, gathered outside our green 12-passenger van in the parking lot at the Indianapolis Zoo, trying to find a way to break into it. I had made my oldest son take off his belt and was dangling it through the driver's side window which was opened just an inch. My girls stood opposite me, peering through the passenger window, pointing first right, then left again, as I tried to no avail to loop the buckle around the lock and pull it up. Meanwhile, my husband and son were using their pocketknives and utility tools to try to pry open a window.

Somehow everyone seemed to think it was my fault that the keys were locked inside the van. It was true that I was the one who had them last. After spending the last few hours peering at sleeping tigers, muddy rhinos, and baboons with bare bottoms, we had returned to the van to eat the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I had packed. All except for my husband, who had gone in search of a fork. He's been on the Atkins diet for over a year now, and PBJs are not exactly low-carb. He'd packed himself a scrumptious-looking salad that made our sandwiches look pitiful in comparison. Unfortunately, though, he had forgotten to pack a fork. I had brilliantly suggested that he go to the zoo cafe and find one, and so he had given me his keys, since I had locked my purse in the van so I wouldn't have to carry it. (Bright, eh?)

When we had arrived in the van, I tossed the keys into the cup holder, and then never thought another thing about them. We feasted on PBJs, Kool-Aid Jammers, and granola bars, and then locked everything up tight to keep my purse safe. It wasn't until we returned from strolling through the White River Gardens that Erick asked me, "So, where are my keys?"

I've locked myself out of a car before. Once I'd locked my keys in the car while it was running. My son actually managed to find a spare set I didn't even know existed. Another time I was grocery shopping and had to call my husband to come rescue me. But this time there wasn't anyone to call to bring us a spare set. I know there are companies that we could call to come pop our lock for us, but we're on a budget, for heaven's sakes. We had to find a way to do this cheaply.

We did actually break into our van eventually. I would tell you how, but I don't want to give anyone any ideas. Okay, actually, I'm not entirely sure how he did it. My husband pried some sort of doohicky off that allowed him to open the window and stick his arm in and open the door from the inside. In the process, he managed to cut his hand with a pocketknife.

I did feel a little bad for being the one who left the keys in the van, but really--it wasn't ALL my fault. If Erick had remembered to pack a fork...or had thought about asking for his keys before we locked up the van, none of this would have ever happened.