These are funny. Mine, however, is just embarrassing. (Okay, it might be funny to others.)
One night about 11:30 pm, I heard something outside. I don't normally go out by myself after dark, and especially not this late, but I needed to. (I can't remember the reason now, but it may have had to do with the extremely heavy wind, which I do NOT like, and getting things put where they wouldn't blow away.) So I am on the patio doing [whatever] when simultaneously two things happen: (1) I realize I left my keys in the house just as (2) the wind slams the door shut.
So there I am outside at 11:30 pm, the wind is howling up a storm, I am dressed in nothing but a short nightshirt, and the door is disturbingly un-openable. In fact, it is firmly shut and stuck. Even though it's not locked, I can't budge it. Believe me, I tried. Repeatedly.
I have no cell phone--and who would be up at 11:30 at night anyway?--and I can't go to the hotel down the street (un)dressed like this. I can't do anything except tug and pull at the door with increasing numbers of tears, and mounting fears and frustration.
In desperation I look around. There is the bathroom window. Of course it's not especially large. But maybe I can get in that if I really try. I know it's not yet locked so I tug it open. I figure maybe, just maybe, I can crawl through that. So I go around the dark property nervously, pull up several items I find there until I discover a plastic patio chair that will hoist me far enough off the ground to begin my wiggle. Which I do. Until I am about halfway in. It's then I realize that if I keep going I will plunge headfirst and uncontrollably onto a table that will collapse with me to the floor where I will likely break at least one thing (including maybe my neck on the sink) or I can re-try from the other end but that means I could just as easily crash head first onto the patio deck while trying to get my legs in the window. We are talking serious personal damage here either way.
I give up this idea and consider sleeping in the car. But I really don't feel safe out there, and the house isn't locked up and the bathroom window is open even though the kitchen door is slammed firmly shut. I try to stifle my increasing panic, which leads me to need to go to the bathroom desperately. And even if I sleep in the car, what the hell am I going to do in the morning? I can't wander the neighborhood near naked. Not. A. Good. Situation.
By this time the tears and self-directed rage are going full force along with the wind. I decide to try the door again, breaking it if I have to. And by god, this time it works! I have thrown my full body against it with such force that it opens! I go in to that wonderful light and warmth and safety, absolutely sobbing with relief. I hit the bathroom--but not until after firmly locking the door. I think it took me hours to get to sleep so pent up was I.
(I wish I could say that was the first time I locked myself out the house but, alas, it was not. At least the other time was during the day and I had a pair of still-wet leggings drying on the patio I could put on under the (same) night shirt while I got a ladder, took the screen off the kitchen window, used a very long-handled fruit picker to grab the jailer-sized key ring off the inside door handle and, with only one heart-stopping drop, bring them to me.)
I am a real danger to myself.