Oops.

I spent the better part of this weekend nursing my sick family. Catie started it while we were still on vacation. I figure I built up immunity since I spent my nights sharing a pillow with her while we were there.

It's a nasty head cold and Nick and Brad came down with it starting Thursday. Consequently, Brad's been downing the cold medicine and his brain has shut down.

Last night at 7:30, it dawned on him that we were supposed to drop the Suburban off at the dealership. (One of the hydraulic support thingymajiggers burst making it impossible to keep the tailgate up.) We loaded the kids up into the car and I followed him there.

When we got back home, Brad remembered that he didn't have a garage remote in his car. No problem, we'll use the front door. Except, he installed a latch on the door (like the kind they have in hotels) a month or so ago because Catie has a bad habit of opening the door. It was latched. We could only open the door about 4 inches. I tried to get the twins to squeeze in but their heads were too big.

Brad tried the back door. Locked.

I thought we'd drive back to the dealership, but Brad reminded me that we had dropped the keys off and the extra set was in the house.

I started having visions of us spending the night on our lawn furniture.

Finally, Brad reminded me that we had given the garage door opener to a friend while we were on vacation. We had a moment of panic again when we realized that we had no way to call them. (Brad's phone was in the house and I don't have his number on my phone.) But, thankfully, he was home.

So, we drove back home and had the kids in bed before 9 pm (an hour late.) Why does it always seem like something happens at the end of vacation to totally negate all of the relaxation I had saved up?