Wanna hear about how I locked Grace in the car at Target and they had to call the fire department?!
Don't be jealous of my mothering skillz. Do NOT be jealous.
First of all, I have been fighting my crippling Target addiction, really I have. But see, I have this cat on Prozac. And since I am fully aware that this means I'm one step away from knitting kleenex cozies, I choose not to have this prescription filled at my regular pharmacy. Also Target has cheap generic prescriptions, and since I'm neither independently wealthy nor possessing pet insurance, the prescription is at Target. So, see, I HAD to go there.
I was totally distracted. I let Grace play with the keys. She locked the doors. She was in the car. I was not. But my purse and cell phone were! And, also? THE KEYS.
I promptly lost my shit. But did so internally, because Grace was actually finding the whole situation hilarious, and I wanted to keep it that way.
About five years after this happened (or maybe a minute, it's impossible to know), an SUV pulled into the garage and out hopped two Target employees. I frantically asked them to get help. One of them assured me he could get in the car, he just needed a screwdriver. In the meantime, the other guy went and got security, who called 311, who dispatched the fire department. Who showed up with lights and sirens. And an AXE. A big, shiny axe. Let me just say that you don't want the people who are supposed to rescue your baby walking up to your car with an AXE. By the time they showed up, the Target guy had the antenna snaked thru the window, while CFD worked on getting the slimjim thru the window. I'm not sure who got the door open, I thought it was the Target guy but who really knows. The only time Gracie ever cried thru the whole thing was when they got the doors unlocked and it made the car alarm go off, so I'd say she escaped pretty well unscathed.
Oh, and by the way? They didn't have the cat's prozac.