There really is nothing like locking yourself out of your car. You stand there helplessly staring at the keys sitting on the seat or hanging out of the ignition, pulling on the door handle for the twentieth time in the last minute like maybe the next pull will be the magical one that, despite all practical laws of engineering and mechanics, lets you back in. Then you have to call Triple A or your delinquent friend who stole cars as a youth to try to get back in. You know what’s even better? Locking yourself out of your car while it’s running. I know this because I’ve done it,,,,,,,,, more than once……… In fact,,,,,,, three times. Because I’m so experienced in this area, I can confirm that no matter how many times you pull on the door handle, It Will Not Open! So, when this happens to you, don’t bother. Search for other solutions right off the bat.
The first time I did this, the car was in my driveway. My delinquent friend came over and we handled the situation.
The second time was at work. Triple A was very helpful.
The third time. Well. That was a doozy. Three months after my first son was born, we took him to see his great grandparents in Puerto Rico. My father-in-law traveled with us. We introduced the little guy to all necessary tropical experiences. Sleeping under mosquito nets, sweating while doing no physical activity at all, going to the rainforest, and most importantly, going to the beach.
Forty five minutes from where my wife’s grandparents lived there was a beautiful, isolated, state park beach. Because I’m introverted to a fault and couldn’t bear the thought of sharing a public beach with, gasp, other people, we headed to that isolated slice of heaven. It was a beautiful day in the tropics. The sun beat down, the breeze was onshore, and the surf was knee high. Two hours ended up being the max time for a baby on the beach, so we pack up and headed back to the car.
I reached the car first and thought everyone would enjoy getting into a car that was already air-conditioned, so I started the car, put the air on full blast, and shut the door, feeling pretty proud of my good idea. Of course, when everyone else arrived I discovered that the car was locked up tighter than Enfamil at a Walgreens.
Picture if you will a slightly befuddled guy trying to figure out how this happened, an angry new mom, and a frustrated grandpa holding a baby in a carseat, all standing in the shade of a cactus next to a running car in the middle of nowhere. I glanced at my little son and he stared back at me with a calm look that said, “From the conversations I overheard while I was in the womb, this is pretty much what I expected dad.” 
Cell phone service was nonexistent, so we were on our own. Luckily I had watched a ton of Macgyver as a child, and as a young adult, and as an adult, so I had an idea. I took one of the spokes out of our beach umbrella, pulled on the top of the car door, and slid it down between the door and the car frame. If I could just hit the unlock button. Thirty minutes later, I had come close, but had no luck. (You’d be shocked at the kind of dirty looks a new mom and a new grandpa can give while they stand in ninety degree heat with a baby.) Then the park rangers showed up. They joined the circus and we all tried for another half hour. Then the cops showed up. And we all tried for another half hour. Eventually one of the cops hit the button and became everyone’s hero. We thanked them all profusely and got into our car which was roughly the temperature of the freezer at Seven Eleven. As we headed back to the house everyone agreed that getting into a hot car was better than doing this again. The baby just looked at me judgmentally, like he knew I’d end up doing this all over again.
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