Apparently, neither I, nor my husband with his advanced degrees, or our extremely smart best friends, the B and the D, are smarter than Chicken Little. Last night, we all exit their house to head out for a night of Mexican food (because we are not going to get any Hispanic styled food next month, all month, in Colombia). B asks her husband D if he has the keys before we leave the kitchen - I heard her, but of course I am choosing not to take sides here. But apparently D did not hear B, and after he shut the door, they exchanged panicked stares and a few laughs as they realized that, yes, both of their keys were now locked inside their house. After a few hair-brained suggestions about climbing on porch roofs, and breaking in windows, AMP showed up with the big brain power to suggest that we hoist Chicken Little up through a window to open the door. We all four gave her explicit instructions about turning the locking mechanisms from the inside of the kitchen door to let us in. She wisely and silently nodded her head, and up she went through the window. 4 voices raised in unison to coach her through the unlocking process. Two seconds later, we saw this:
Smart girl - obviously, she should have just handed the two sets of keys out the window to us. I knew that.