I got up early on the Sunday of Daylight Savings Time, the way I (almost) always do. Time to make the donuts…
No wait! That’s not right! Time to feed the chickens….I threw on my coat over my PJ’s and bumped into my daughter on the way out. She said she was getting in the shower, and then inexplicably, picked up her phone and went on to the bathroom and shut the door. I went out the back door and the moment I shut it…I got the universal sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that one gets when they realize they just locked themselves out.
I called my daughter on said phone-no answer. I fed the chickens. I got the paper. I called her again. No answer. I texted her. Nothing. I called my other sleeping child on his cell. Nada. In desperation, I even called the land line.
I stood on the porch, wishing I had put my jeans on as the 4 degrees seeped through my thin pajama pants. Let’s face it, a teenager’s shower could potentially take an hour.
I decided to (take my life in my hands and) take a walk. In the snow. And the ice. On my Very. Narrow. Street.
I made limoncello out of lemons! I am the type of woman who does that!
Of course, 3 minutes into the walk she called me, and I turned around and went right back.