Stuck

I woke up this morning still buzzing from my rather gorgeous burst of energy and enthusiasm of yesterday. I ran round the house like a mad dervish, cleaning, tidying, getting Dylan ready for nursery whilst juggling the washing, the demands for "more Thomas" and managing to get my sing and sign stuff out to the car.

"I am woman hear me roar"

Then 10 minutes before my estimated departure time I was herding my immaculately pressed wee man out to the car. "I want to drive the twaktor" (Tractor - my car, yes it really does sound this bad) exclaimed the little man.

He climbed into the car, I pushed in the keys and whilst sorting out the recycling I left him to play farmers.

The wind decided at that moment to blow all the papers out of my recycling box (crap) and I downed the box and took off after the paper like some heat seeking missile. Success, the paper caught I turned as the door to the car slammed shut (bugger, fingers)But no, I saw a smiling, waving Dylan. I waved back then my eyes bulged as he hit the door lock button.

In slow motion I ran towards him, "Noooooooooo". Hands pressed up against the window I stared at him in amazement, anger and total loss.

"mummie, look, I stuck in". He turned to the drivers wheel and proceeded to play again.

"Dylan, baby" I said as I banged on the window (keep calm) "Dylan, look at mummie, see the handle, pull the handle". Ignored! I fumbled for my bag, spare key, no spare key, spare key in the house, where's the house keys - yep, on with the car keys.

"Dylan, sweetheart" I said as I banged on the window (Big smile, tinged with desperation - keep calm) "Dylan, look at mummie, see the handle, pull the handle", desperately miming pulling a handle. He looks at me with big eyes and suddenly that's when it hits him, he is locked in. Little hands come up to the window,eyes fill with tears "Mommie".

"oh Dylan, its alright, don't worry, mummie will get you out!" But how, I call my dad, mum has a spare key. I get his answer machine, bloody answer machines. I call his work number, I get his answer machine, I call his spare phone, the bloody answer machine again. I hate bloody answer machines. I call my mum, Arghhh the bloody answer machine. I call my dads work number again. This time a colleague answers, "no he's not here, have you tried his mobile?".

I stand in the street the wind whipping and rain threatening and I'm on the edge of tears. Dylan sits with his head hidden and cries. I have never felt so hopeless in all my life. I consider throwing a plant pot through the patio doors, but the cost of replacing the double glazed windows brings me to my senses.

I pace - I'm good at pacing. Dylan still cries, his little face looking at me asking why I'm not getting him out of the car. "I stuck mummie, open door" he says. "I cant baby - please Dylan, pull the handle. Wind the window down, do you remember how to wind the window down?" Blank, more tears!

I call Jane, my sing and sign boss. Not to worry she will cancel the course, everyone will understand. Will they? God I hope so!

Finally my phone rings. "Its dad, got your message on my way home now to pick up the keys". A wave of relief hits me. "its OK baby, Rubber Duck is coming to save the day". We wait, how long does a minute last...

45 minutes later and no end of tears and retching and dad drives down the road. I press my hands up against the window. "Dylan, Grandie is here" the window slowly moves, and Dylan winds down the window. "Mummie" he whispers "I was stuck".

I stick my arm through the window and pull the handle. Dylan in my arms I turn to dad with tears streaming down my face.

"I am woman hear me roar"....