Like buying bolt cutters in Wal-Mart at 9pm on a Sunday the day before a Holiday. Which I had to do tonight.

Because we were on our way out. And we were taking my wife’s car, and she didn’t bring her door controller. And she doesn’t keep it in her car because one time I asked her in front of our house (in our wondefully nice new neighborhood mind you) if she had it in her car still. And she had to have chains on the doors as well, even though it’s a double lock door with a deadbolt. So we had to cut it with bolt cutters, which we had to go buy.

My wife being terrified of life is a real pain sometimes. I guess I should just be glad she didn’t ask me to put some ridiculous contraption in the front door that could not have been dealt with, forcing us to break a window or call a locksmith to get in...