Burping the (Tupperware) Baby

So I might have mentioned on FaceBook a few days ago that TinyDoom! ended up in a Tupperware bin while I broke into my own house. *ahem*

Oldest Dog, hounded (har har) by the recently adopted shelter not-quite-puppy, has lately decided to wait for me to leave the house to do #2 in my kitchen. I can only assume he requires the peace and quiet of said whippersnapper secured in her kennel to take a dump, like an old man with a newspaper having consumed a bran muffin and prune juice waiting for everyone else to clear out of the house. So five minutes before I needed to leave to pick up the SugarBean from school, I booted him out in to the Poop Yard, following him with TinyDoom! under my arm to holler "You get out there and take a crap!"

Which was punctuated by the clicking of the locked door closing behind me.

Cue panic. Cue internal screams of "SHIT SHIT SHIT" because I should now be in the car headed toward the school. I have no way of calling them to say I will be late or my husband to inform him that I am stuck outside in the cold with a mildly perturbed baby under one arm, never mind that it's Swim Class Day and that it's not at all warm enough to sit outside for three hours until someone comes home wondering if I'm dead because they can't get me on the phone.

Spurred by desperation, I scooted around to the front of the house to put on my gardening boots (I was in my socks) and to try the front door... also locked. I checked the garage side door. Locked. I was tempted to set TinyDoom! down to reach up through the cat door, then decided against it. Circled the house looking for an unlocked window. Found the ONLY one, which was

1) above the kitchen sink

and 2) at head-height.

I mentally slapped myself and looked for a clean and safe place to put down the baby while attempting the window, and thanked my lucky stars that we had three large empty Tupperware storage bins stacked up on the front porch, leftover from packing up summer toys. I took the lid off and laid down the baby and tried not to snivel when he looked at me with big Harry-Potter-baby-who-lived eyes and began to wail "WHY AM I IN THIS BIN??? IT IS COLD! IT IS HARD! WAAAAAH!"

I then hoisted myself up on a small propane tank, doing my best not to step on the nozzle, and moved all the clean dishes and vitamin bottles and glassware from around the sink. Hoisted myself inside. Almost fell on the shelter puppy who was doing the Happy Dog Dance of "Yay, you're back! I totally missed you! Did you know the Tiny Mailman is in a bin on the back porch?" Ran to retrieve the baby and call the school and yell at my husband about spare keys and rekeying the locks to match and OMGWTFFLAIL.

But also... tiny bit of triumph, because I felt like a total cat burglar once I made it inside.

So there you have it. Aren't you glad I shared??