The time I locked myself in the chicken coop

I'm telling you. Things happen to me. Thankfully I can look back and laugh at myself.

This happened on a normal weekday.

Steve's at work by the time the girls and I get up to start our morning routine.

I get the girls settled in for breakfast and decide to run out and throw some leftovers to the chickens in their run (this was before we had the fence).

So I go into their run and carefully close the door - closed enough they won't run out (no time to chase chickens this morning), but not so hard that it latches (and locks me in).

Welp. Guess what happened.

Yup.

It latched.

I was locked in.

Legitimately locked in.

Fuck.

FUCK FUCK FUCK

Yelling is no good - the girls cannot hear me.

We have no neighbors.

I am grateful I have my car keys on me - I try to use my house key to get in between the wire mesh and the wood, so I can try to pry it open enough to squeeze my hand through and unlatch.

The key broke in half.

My hand is bleeding.

I'm sweating at this point.

I have 30 minutes until the bus comes.

I start crying, in a frustrating manner, trying desperately to get this wire bent so I can squeeze my hand in.

I'm able to get a FINGER in and use everything that I have to pull it open and I do it (after about 20 minutes of struggling).

THANK GOD.

Now I'm running back to the house - I need to change my clothes because I've sweat through the first outfit.

Bandage my hand.

We missed the bus.

I take Ava to daycare.

I drive Mila to school.

Then I go to work.

We decided to attach a line to the lever on the INSIDE of the coop, so if it latches again on us, we can easily unlatch it and open the door from the inside.

Lesson learned.