I experienced just this morning the scariest five minutes of my life (well, sort of)..... Somehow, I got locked outside. I was out in the garage trying to get paint supplies, Gardner ran out with just a diaper on, and the cat was under our Jeep (who knows how she got out). I grabbed the cat, then picked up Gardner, depositing him inside. The door shut, I said, "Oh, no," and felt the doorknob. Yep. Locked. I quickly reviewed in my mind as to whether there were any other unlocked doors, upstairs or off the patio. Nope. I began to feel the cat's claws digging into my sides, with her starting to panic, sensing my stress. I threw her into the storage room. As I neared the door again, I could hear Gardner figiting with the lock on the doorknob. "Gardner, sweetie....open the door for Mommy. Open the door. Turn the lock. See that little button on the door? Turn it. TURN it. Open the door for Mommy." More figiting. A giggle. I began to violently crank a...