Your mission, should you choose to accept it

OK. So my genius streak continues. It's 9:30 last night. It has just finished sleeting. I realize that the temperature is still dropping, and I haven't wrapped up my outside faucet to make sure the pipes don't burst if we have a hard freeze. Crap.

First, I can't find the styrofoam dealy that my pops gave me, with stern warnings about the dangers of frozen pipes. So, I run around looking for a substitute. I find: an old towel, a plastic grocery bag, a piece of rope. Good to go.

I'm wearing my awesome Minnetonka indoor/outdoor, slip-on houseshoes, which are perfect for quick trips to the dumpster, and raids to the backyard to wrap imperiled faucets, that last mere seconds. I put on my serious weather coat, warm gloves, the ugliest hat I own, and I'm ready to do home protection.

I go out the sliding door, and pull it closed because, contrary to the rumor that my mother spreads, I'm not trying to heat the whole outdoors. And then watch as the slide bar falls into place. Oh, fuuuuuuuuudge. But I didn't say fudge.

I'm locked out. I looked at that slide bar when I moved in. Knowing full well that this very thing would happen, someday. It wasn't practically inevitable. It was inevitable. I just kind of hoped it would be in freezing temperatures.

I pushed the door a few times to see if I could bump it out of the way. I actually would have been appalled if it did. It's supposed to keep the door from sliding open. Just hopefully with me on the inside.

Of course, I have no keys, no wallet. Why would I take keys and a wallet to go into the backyard for 30 seconds?

Luckily, I know two things you don't know. One, I have a keypad front door lock. No keys necessary. But, you ask, what about the 6-foot fence. And I say: Two, a misspent youth as a tomboy has left me with mad fence climbing skills. That's right, baby. I shinnied up that fence and dropped on the other side like Barbara Felden in fake fur-lined houseshoes. And aside from the ice flakes that dropped in my collar, and the fear that my neighbors called the cops about the person breaking and un-entering my house, everything was just fine. (And the cops didn't show up. Neighborhood Watch my ass.)

I hurried back to the front door, got back inside the house, went back out the sliding door, carefully securing the slide bar, wrapped the faucet, and went back inside to shiver and call the person who gave me the keypad to say THANK YOU!