05/27/2026
THE NIGHTSHIRT BANDIT
Evidently a day can’t go by without Mama causing chaos somewhere. Go grab a drink, you’re gonna need it! 🥃🍸🍺
After 40 days and 40 nights of rain, we finally had a sliver of sunshine and I decided it was a perfect day to mow.
Evidently the Lawnmower Gods thought otherwise.
Within five minutes, my mower died. I tried everything, couldn’t get it to start. Finally said a few choice cuss words, grabbed my w**d eater and proceed to whack some grass.
After 30 minutes, I was sweating like a pig, my arms felt like they were vibrating off my body, and I decided I was done.
I made a video plea for someone who knew how to fix mowers, posted, then came into the house to die.
Five minutes later, my dear friend Tonya asked me where I lived, then proceeded to say she was sending her yard guy to mow my lawn and fix my mower.
Ten minutes later, my dear friend, Ms. Judy called and said, “Meet me at Lowes.” She informed me she was gonna buy me a mower. I love older ladies like Ms. Judy who tell you what to do — reminds me of Mom and Nanny! 🤣
I nearly cried. I thanked her profusely but said another friend was sending her yard guy and he was gonna take a look at it.
Tons of recommendations on how to fix the mower poured in, so I went back to the garage to see if I could.
Now here’s where it takes a turn.
After getting drenched with sweat earlier, I had tossed my clothes in the wash. So I had on a t-shirt, no bra, a pair of raggedy shorts, and my Vans.
Went out to the garage, mucked around with the thingamajig, grabbed the doohickey and shoved it into the whatchamacallit! Voila! Mower started!
Feeling mighty proud of my mechanical prowess, I walked back to the house, grabbed the door handle — and discovered I was locked out!
The dogs were thrilled!
“Mama’s outside with us! Let’s play!”
I, on the other hand, was less than thrilled. My phone, you see, was inside — enjoying the air conditioning.
I stomped back to the garage, grabbed a screwdriver and went to work trying to break into my own house.
No luck.
Stomped back to the garage for a different screwdriver — like one flat blade screwdriver is more magical than the other.
Back to the door. Jimmied. Wiggled. Tried brute force.
Nothing.
Stood there a minute contemplating walking to Camden’s to get her to call Helen who may or may not have a key. Looked down at my saggy b***s and just couldn’t bring myself to thrust them upon an unsuspecting public.
Went back to work on the door and boom! I got it!
Went inside, thanking the gods I managed to get in and spare humanity an image of my floppy b***s.
The night progressed and it was almost time for bed — for me that’s 2-3 AM. Walked out on the porch to get the stray kitty bowl to fill up and yep, you guessed it…
The damn door locked behind me — AGAIN!
Only this time my sartorial situation was worse. Way worse.
Nightshirt. Commando. Vans. And no phone.
Oh, and the dogs were inside this time while Callie sat on the railing, silently judging.
Whether she was judging my lack of fashion sense or just lack of sense, we’ll never know.
I head back to the garage in the dark, look for the screwdriver I used before and remember, “you left it on the back porch, moron!”
Searched high and low for something to help me get in, but not a damn thing!
I again contemplate walking to Camden’s but given I had even less clothing on, that wasn’t happening. My luck a cop would drive by and arrest me for indecent exposure!
I finally found a paint can opener, went back to the door and went to work.
No luck.
I cussed.
Callie snickered.
Charlotte stood there watching me.
I begged her, “Jump on the handle, sweetheart! Go ahead!” But since I’m always telling her get off the door, this one time she decided to remember my admonishments!
After about 15 minutes and a lot of cussing that would make a sailor blush, I finally got the damn thing opened and called it a night.
I swear, Hollywood couldn’t write a more convoluted script if they tried!
Act I: Toro mower attempts mutiny.
Outcome: I defeat mower.
Act II: Back door initiates captivity protocol.
Outcome: I break into house with screwdriver.
Act III: Back door attempts repeated kidnapping while I’m half-naked.
Outcome: Can opener deployed, home secured.
I guess, if this graphic design gig doesn’t work out, I might have a future as the friendly neighborhood Cat Burglar! 🦹🏻
