Sealed Compartment of Doom!

Hubby and I had a little incident the other day, and for the life of me,  I’m not sure how I managed to not share it with you.

During our multiple years of marriage, every single time I leap into the car to drop off a child, pick up some milk, etc, hubby always asks if he should come with me.  And without fail, I say NO!  I like the bit of time on my own in the car and often the thought of closing the house up and alarming it for a quick trip seems pointless.

Anyway, this particular day – it was Easter I remember now – I surprised him, actually myself, and said sure, come along.  I could see instant glee in his face.  It was probably similar to a prisoner being let out of solitary confinement.

So of we go, me zooming along, hubby holding on for dear life.  You know the pose, spread-eagled and whistling through his teeth as I take the corner at what he considers speed.  As I park, hubby said he would sit tight until I got back, after all my estimation of how long I’d be gone was around 30 seconds.  I slam the car door, take the keys, press the lock button and off I go.

The shop entrance I need is closed, I walk back, pass the car, go to the correct entrance and all is well in the world

About 5 minutes later I’m still in the shop, and I can hear a car alarm going off.  Shame, I think, some poor sole is not going to be charmed to come back to find his car screaming.  I think nothing more and wait for the phone. I realize I need money and go back to the car to empty hubby’s wallet.  As I get closer I see him kneeling up on the front seat, grabbing at the door handles, all of them, trying to get out.  The windows are slightly steamed and I’m starting to wonder what the heck he is doing.

As I get closer, I see panic on his face.  And typically I’m thinking to myself, bloody idiot, why didn’t he press the open button on the door to get out, or better still, open the damn window.

Let’s just say, he was not a happy man.  And yes, oxygen was wearing thin, in what had become a sealed compartment of doom.  I of course tell him in so many words that he is silly (rather stronger I have to admit)  and that I don’t believe for one minute that I had locked him in or that he had pressed every  button in the car in an attempt to get out.

Anyway to cut a long story short, I did lock him in an no he could not open the car doors or a window.  He was, almost as we speak, no more!

It would seem that my new car has a safety system that when locked from the outside will not allow any exit from any unfortunate person left behind.

Suffice to say, he no longer asks if he should come with me…

Perhaps we should change the new car for this safer option
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