Oops! Wrong Button!
One of my New Years goals was to earn one bone marrow a week by exhibiting exceptional behavior. I’m pretty sure I blew it for this week.
In appreciate of my overall good behavior in recent months, and given the depreciation in the value of my mom’s car, I had been upgraded from coach (the way back behind the dog cage) to business class (the back seat). I had real high hopes of being further upgraded to first class (the front passenger seat) by February. That was until this week.
My mom had a number of errands to run before noon and we were on a roll. One of her stops was at the friend’s house to feed their chickens. Foreseeing a conflict between the animals and I, she made me wait in the car.
I confess I was a more than a little disappointed, but that in no way influenced what happened next. I was sitting quietly in the back seat when I started thinking she might be a while. I decided to climb into the front and scope out the amenities, since I was bound to be upgraded any day now.
I enjoyed the panoramic view. I ran my paws over the radio dials pretending to change the channel and turn up the volume. Then I got really bold and moved over to the driver’s seat and put my paws on the steering wheel. In my excitement I lost my balance and toppled over onto the driver’s side door and bumped something that made a click noise.
I froze and looked all around, but didn’t see anything out of place. No lights were on, the windows were still up and there were no dings or engine noises. I figured I was safe and returned to the back seat to wait for my mom.
A moment later my mom arrived at the car and pulled the driver’s side door handle and it wouldn’t open. She tried again. Then we both saw what I had missed. The little knobby thing was down. ALL THE KNOBBY THINGS WERE DOWN!
My mom spotted her car keys on the driver’s seat. Then she looked at me. Not. Good.
“Marty! What did you do!” She shouted at me though the window, followed by a string of expletives and other words spell check didn’t recognize.
I didn’t know how I had locked the doors, so how was I supposed to know how to unlock the doors. Plus, the angrier she got, the safer I felt with the doors locked.
After a few fruitless minutes of hand signals and pointing, my mom went around the back of the car. As luck would have it, the hatch in the back had not been closed tightly and my mom was able to crawl in the back, reach through the cage to a button that released the seat back, which left just enough room for her to squeeze into the back seat and unlock the doors.
So, needless to say, I’ve been downgraded to coach. Well, it’s only January right?