A Comedy of Errors
My neighbour and I are there for each other. It’s just how we roll. Little favours here and there, shared food when we buy in bulk, pet sitting and loving, kiddie sitting, advice, gossip etc etc etc.
One morning early last week she realised that she’d locked her housekeeper out of the house and because she was already at work and I was still at home it made sense that I would go and let the housekeeper into the house. I grabbed my set of keys for next door and headed down to my gate – our gates are right next to one another.
Sure enough, there stood Eunice. I greeted her and opened the gate a short way (so that the doggies wouldn’t run out) and then closed it again behind us. I then let Eunice into the house and returned to the gate.
It wouldn’t open. The light on the remote control came on. But the motor didn’t even click or beep or anything. Damn! I didn’t have my cell phone. I looked hopefully over the wall towards my house in case anyone was looking out, but no such luck. I shouted “J-e-e-e-r-r-r-y-y-y” at the top of my voice a few times. Nothing.
I then scolded myself for being a total banana. Why don’t I just phone Séan from my neighbour’s landline? I let myself back into the house. Eunice looks perplexed. I explain to her what’s going on and then ............ no phone. Well, not where I always remembered it to have been. I ask Eunice where the landline phone is. She manages a blank stare and tells me she doesn’t know where it is. Really??? Ok, I dash quickly through the house trying to think of obvious places it may have been moved to. Nope – it’s gone awol.
In the meantime, while I’ve been playing hunt the phone, Séan has come out of our house to see where I am. As I head back outside next door to try plan “B” he goes back inside. (I only found this out later.)
“J-e-e-e-r-r-r-y-y-y” once again, a few times, at ever higher decibels. Nothing.
Berating myself for being a total banana once again. I dash inside to the, by now, really bemused Eunice. I ask her to please send an sms to my neighbour and ask her to phone Séan. The stock standard answer “I don’t have any air time”. Poo!
While I’m trying to contain my frustration in my neighbour’s house Séan has once again wandered outside to see where I am. As I exit into the front garden he goes back into our house. The pair of us must have looked like one of those old fashioned barometers where either the little lady or the little man are out of the house but never together.
Having tried the remote a few more times I reach desperation. “J-E-E-E-R-R-R-Y-Y-Y” – I shout my throat raw. On the fourth or fifth shout I notice the birds on our front lawn lift simultaneously into the air and my Jerry, with a very confused look on her little face, dashes outside. Yay! “Call Daddy,” I yell “I’m stuck!”
My knight in shining shorts and t-shirt stamps out looking decidedly annoyed. After having tried the remote again himself and changing the battery and trying it once more we briefly discuss me climbing over the wall ..... and the electric fence. Not gonna happen! Jerry dashes off and fetches my cell phone. “Houston, we have a problem,” I tell my neighbour. She suggests that we try the intercom button inside the house. Right.
Realising that using the intercom button could result in the doggies running out of the gate I once again summon the irritated Eunice. I explain to her what we are going to try and tell her that we need to put the dogs into the house for safety. “Yes,” she agrees.
I call the doggies while she holds the door open. Two of the dogs appear and run gratefully into the house. I turn around to call the third dog and the two inside dogs hear me calling and come dashing out. I smile at Eunice. “When the dogs are inside close the door so they can’t get out, okay?” “Yes,” she agrees. ‘K!
I call the doggies while she holds the door open. The same two dogs reappear and run enthusiastically into the house. I turn around to call the third dog and the two inside dogs hear me calling and come dashing out of the door that Eunice is cheerfully holding open. I grimace at her. “Never mind – I’ll do it myself,” this through clenched teeth.
I call the doggies and once the first two dogs, who think we are having a fabulous game, dash inside I close the door myself. Eunice looks a little hurt. I call the third dog who immediately picks up on the fact that I’m as tight as a piano wire due to the fact that I’m stuck inside my neighbour’s garden with a dimwit and three excited dogs and my little girl is going to be horribly late for school. He stands around the corner of the house with his head on one side. No really, he looks like that permanently since he was poisoned a year ago. I try my sweetest, full of fun voice but Max won’t have any of it. He can smell my stress.
I streak past Eunice into the house, carefully closing the door behind me, and run to the scullery. I grab a handful of cat food. He LOVES cat food. I break the sound barrier back to the wary Max and try to bribe him. He’s not so sure. But ambles a little closer to the front door. I make the call that it’s now or never. I have to make my escape. I slowly, and with huge restraint, explain to Eunice that she needs to push “that” button (touching it with my finger until she nods) to open the gate. “Yes,” she agrees.
I scream back outside, spread the cat food in a long line from Max to the front door and stand expectantly at the gate. We hold our breath: Séan, Jerry and I. After much button pushing the gate trundles open. And stays open. “Push the button again,” I squeak. Whilst standing in a goalie type stance in case the Max-dog finishes his treat and makes for the gate. Eunice moves in slow motion toward the intercom and after, what felt like, a few years the gate slowly trundled closed again.
As my blood-pressure slowly fell back to normal and I drove at breakneck speed towards the school I told Jerry with a wry smile “One day we’ll laugh at what happened this morning, I promise.” She didn’t get it.
Happy Day!!
One morning early last week she realised that she’d locked her housekeeper out of the house and because she was already at work and I was still at home it made sense that I would go and let the housekeeper into the house. I grabbed my set of keys for next door and headed down to my gate – our gates are right next to one another.
Sure enough, there stood Eunice. I greeted her and opened the gate a short way (so that the doggies wouldn’t run out) and then closed it again behind us. I then let Eunice into the house and returned to the gate.
It wouldn’t open. The light on the remote control came on. But the motor didn’t even click or beep or anything. Damn! I didn’t have my cell phone. I looked hopefully over the wall towards my house in case anyone was looking out, but no such luck. I shouted “J-e-e-e-r-r-r-y-y-y” at the top of my voice a few times. Nothing.
I then scolded myself for being a total banana. Why don’t I just phone Séan from my neighbour’s landline? I let myself back into the house. Eunice looks perplexed. I explain to her what’s going on and then ............ no phone. Well, not where I always remembered it to have been. I ask Eunice where the landline phone is. She manages a blank stare and tells me she doesn’t know where it is. Really??? Ok, I dash quickly through the house trying to think of obvious places it may have been moved to. Nope – it’s gone awol.
In the meantime, while I’ve been playing hunt the phone, Séan has come out of our house to see where I am. As I head back outside next door to try plan “B” he goes back inside. (I only found this out later.)
“J-e-e-e-r-r-r-y-y-y” once again, a few times, at ever higher decibels. Nothing.
Berating myself for being a total banana once again. I dash inside to the, by now, really bemused Eunice. I ask her to please send an sms to my neighbour and ask her to phone Séan. The stock standard answer “I don’t have any air time”. Poo!
While I’m trying to contain my frustration in my neighbour’s house Séan has once again wandered outside to see where I am. As I exit into the front garden he goes back into our house. The pair of us must have looked like one of those old fashioned barometers where either the little lady or the little man are out of the house but never together.
Having tried the remote a few more times I reach desperation. “J-E-E-E-R-R-R-Y-Y-Y” – I shout my throat raw. On the fourth or fifth shout I notice the birds on our front lawn lift simultaneously into the air and my Jerry, with a very confused look on her little face, dashes outside. Yay! “Call Daddy,” I yell “I’m stuck!”
My knight in shining shorts and t-shirt stamps out looking decidedly annoyed. After having tried the remote again himself and changing the battery and trying it once more we briefly discuss me climbing over the wall ..... and the electric fence. Not gonna happen! Jerry dashes off and fetches my cell phone. “Houston, we have a problem,” I tell my neighbour. She suggests that we try the intercom button inside the house. Right.
Realising that using the intercom button could result in the doggies running out of the gate I once again summon the irritated Eunice. I explain to her what we are going to try and tell her that we need to put the dogs into the house for safety. “Yes,” she agrees.
I call the doggies while she holds the door open. Two of the dogs appear and run gratefully into the house. I turn around to call the third dog and the two inside dogs hear me calling and come dashing out. I smile at Eunice. “When the dogs are inside close the door so they can’t get out, okay?” “Yes,” she agrees. ‘K!
I call the doggies while she holds the door open. The same two dogs reappear and run enthusiastically into the house. I turn around to call the third dog and the two inside dogs hear me calling and come dashing out of the door that Eunice is cheerfully holding open. I grimace at her. “Never mind – I’ll do it myself,” this through clenched teeth.
I call the doggies and once the first two dogs, who think we are having a fabulous game, dash inside I close the door myself. Eunice looks a little hurt. I call the third dog who immediately picks up on the fact that I’m as tight as a piano wire due to the fact that I’m stuck inside my neighbour’s garden with a dimwit and three excited dogs and my little girl is going to be horribly late for school. He stands around the corner of the house with his head on one side. No really, he looks like that permanently since he was poisoned a year ago. I try my sweetest, full of fun voice but Max won’t have any of it. He can smell my stress.
I streak past Eunice into the house, carefully closing the door behind me, and run to the scullery. I grab a handful of cat food. He LOVES cat food. I break the sound barrier back to the wary Max and try to bribe him. He’s not so sure. But ambles a little closer to the front door. I make the call that it’s now or never. I have to make my escape. I slowly, and with huge restraint, explain to Eunice that she needs to push “that” button (touching it with my finger until she nods) to open the gate. “Yes,” she agrees.
I scream back outside, spread the cat food in a long line from Max to the front door and stand expectantly at the gate. We hold our breath: Séan, Jerry and I. After much button pushing the gate trundles open. And stays open. “Push the button again,” I squeak. Whilst standing in a goalie type stance in case the Max-dog finishes his treat and makes for the gate. Eunice moves in slow motion toward the intercom and after, what felt like, a few years the gate slowly trundled closed again.
As my blood-pressure slowly fell back to normal and I drove at breakneck speed towards the school I told Jerry with a wry smile “One day we’ll laugh at what happened this morning, I promise.” She didn’t get it.
Happy Day!!
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