The Blame Game

After ten years in the frozen north, we have finally done it. Gone are the snow shovels, high powered generators, basements, and mittens. No longer are we concerned with snow tires, deadly icicles, or frosty mornings. God opened up a path for us to return to Texas, and we hightailed it out of there as fast as we were able. Of course, adjusting back to a southern city is going to take a bit of work.

The weekend of our reunion had arrived. Dad had been working for three months in Texas while we girls sold the house and packed up all our belongings. In a sixteen-hour marathon, we tag-teamed it down to Dallas and went to work repainting and reflooring our house in a race to finish before our stuff arrived.

Father’s Day 2014 found us mostly successful. After our first week, the painting was done; the flooring was in; and half our stuff sat stacked around us. The pets were enjoying finally being cool and settled. There was only one problem….

Dallas House 037We were locked out.

In order to help explain how we succumbed to this dastardly event, some friends suggested establishing a chart of blame. Here are everyone’s contributions to what caused my dad to spend his Father’s Day waiting for the locksmith and forking over $150 to get into our new home:

The former owner: When owning a house that has four sets of doors to the outside with double locks on each one, most people would have an adequate amount of keys for those locks. Somehow, when we purchased the house, we were only given two keys to the garage door and one garage door remote.

My mother: Due to our lack of keys and my mom being the primary driver at the time, we girls kept reiterating, “Take the keys with you!” On this particular Sunday, my parents had both left to return some moving equipment. On their return, they told us to be ready to hurry out the door so we could make it to church on time. As you can guess, my mom forgot something.

Amy: When the phone call came in saying that Mom and Dad were on the way home, Amy spurred us all into action. She took care of the animals, made sure all the doors and windows were securely locked, and raced us outside.

Michelle and Angela: With Amy already in front of the house, Michelle and I headed out the door to the garage. We secured the locks, and then we were faced with a conundrum. How were we supposed to finish closing the house when we didn’t have the garage door remote? This is where Michelle’s ninja skills came into play. Hitting the button to close the door, Michelle raced out of the garage and tried to step over the sensor. No luck. The door popped back up again. Handing off her purse and Bible to me, Michelle geared up for a second round. With a second plunk on the key, the door began crinkling down. As I shouted encouragement, Michelle tensed. With a spring and a duck, Michelle cleared the sensor and the door closed with a satisfied “Clunk.”

As Michelle and I stood in the driveway high-fiving and congratulating each other on how well we were able to lock up the house, Mom and Dad came hurrying around to the back. Apparently, they had been knocking on the front door while we were escaping and securing the back. Unfortunately, the keys hadn’t made it out.

We learned some interesting lessons that Father’s Day: (1.) Living ten years in a place where we never locked our doors has made us forgetful. We’ll have to get used to locks and keys again. (2.) Our house is quite secure. After much effort, we couldn’t figure out a way to break in. (3.) Having a collection of animals trapped in a house with brand new carpet is a great motivator to get things done more quickly.

So this was one of our first adventures back in the Lone Star State. Perhaps we have been influenced by Michigan a bit more than we realized….


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