A Story Worth SHARING!!!

Okay, this is a VERY, VERY long post, but it's WORTH reading if you need a good laugh!  We debated about sharing it and thought we HAVE to document it!  We thought you might enjoy it!  So sit back and ENJOY!  There are not too many pictures provided!  I am sure you will form your own!  Happy reading!

(This is Brett writing now...) I’m not one for record keeping, but sometimes things happen that must be documented. The following is a true story that took place December 11, 2010.
Winter has long been a favorite time of the year for Tiffany and me. Tiffany isn’t much for cold and wind and snow, but we were married December 20th and winter, at times, provides romantic reflection on what took place 13 years ago. While it seems to always be a busy time, we traditionally try and make some sort of time with each other to celebrate another year of marriage. This year found us in Island Park. Our friends were gracious enough to offer their cabin and we were smart enough to take advantage of the offer. We took the kids to grandma's and headed north.

We absolutely love this particular cabin. The setting is relaxing, the scenery beautiful, and amenities plentiful. It is simple to relax with satellite tv, movies galore, all kinds of games, and even an outdoor hot tub. After some time in West Yellowstone to enjoy an IMax show and good food we were looking forward to getting back to the cabin and looking forward to a relaxing soak in the hot tub. Given the light traffic and low attendance at the neighboring cabins, I officially declared the hot tub a “clothing optional” hot tub.
Tiffany had recently purchased a new swimsuit and she was looking forward to the opportunity of using/showing it. I too was looking forward to it. I, however, had not recently purchased a swimsuit. Given the clothing optional circumstances, Tiffany chose clothing. I chose non-clothing. (Insert explanation here: I have four brothers and one brother-in-law and male friends that are now in fist-pumping, super bowl yelling mode, hollering something like this, “Yeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh! You go Brett!!!! What an animal!!!! HOOOOOOTTTTTTTTT TUUUUUBBBBBB ACCCCCTTTTTTIIIIIOOOOONNNNNN!!!! Let it be known that the purpose was to simply enjoy a relaxing soak that didn’t necessarily require swim trunks.) We made the ten-foot scurry in the 6 degree and snowing weather from the door to the tub and quickly settled in.
Thirty minutes later as prune skin started to set in we decided it was time head in. Tiff was first out as I replaced the tub cover. With my back to her I heard her say the words no man should ever hear uttered under those conditions, “Honey? The door’s locked.” Words can’t explain what I thought and felt as I heard her break the news. I sunk… literally. Back in the tub I went and Tiff also returned to melt the quickly forming ice at the end of her hair. The following conversation ensued:

T: Do you have the key? (Giggle giggle)

B: Nope

T: Do you think there is a spare? (Laugh laugh)

B: I think the one we have is the spare. It’s on the shelf just inside that locked door.

T: Can you break in like you used to do at Mike and Laurie’s place? (Chuckle chuckle)

B: Probably, but I used those credit cards that are in my wallet on the shelf just inside that locked door.

T: Can we call somebody? (Cackle Cackle)

B: We could if we had a cell phone. It’s on the table just inside that locked door.

T: Do you have anything in the pickup that will work? (Laughing hysterically knowing it wouldn’t be her that would check the pickup.)

B: I think the pickup is locked and the keys are in my coat hanging just inside that locked door.

T: Oh. (Snicker snicker)

As we sat it became obvious that the door wasn’t going to unlock itself. The options were these: 1. Pray the pickup was unlocked and it miraculously held a key that would open the door. 2. Find something like a sled or tree branch that would cover the nether regions enough that I dared knock on the nearest neighbor’s door to ask for help. We decided to first try option 1. I knew the pickup was locked, but thought I’d check just in case. What ensued became that longest period of time in my life. I embarked on a journey sans clothing that I’m sure will have long-lasting emotional effects. Through the freshly fallen snow I marched to the pickup to see what I could see.
I reached the driver’s door (the laughter from Tiffany in the background was non-stop. Not just a laugh, but the “I can’t breathe, almost ready to pass out” laugh) and like manna from heaven when I pulled the handle it opened. It actually opened! It opened! It really… holy crap my feet are cold.

I jumped in and first spotted on the ground my Sorels aka winter snow packs. After quickly assessing whether anything else would be helpful, I quickly returned to my out of control laughing wife with snow boots, a mini mag light, a cd, fuse puller, and air gauge. Don’t ask. I just grabbed. The only thing I could think of was getting back to warm water. I soaked for a minute and once blood was appropriately flowing again it was back to work.

Have you ever tried to put snow boots on with dripping wet feet? Sorels have a wool liner that is not conducive to this task. It would have been easier to fit the Michelin Man in Baby Jessica’s well. I gave up. I got my feet in far enough that I now know what it’s like to wear stilettos. At least the feet were protected from direct contact with the snow.
By using the CD as credit card proxy I attempted for several minutes to break in. The only thing that ended up breaking was the cd and the skin of my palm after the broken cd penetrated it. One thing I ought to omit, but I’m not going to is the fact that Tiff had a front row seat as I bent and crouched while working on the lock. Poor Tiffany. You see, my fitness hasn’t exactly been at the level it ought to be and Tiff really should have been crying. She should have never been exposed to such a thing, but modesty wasn’t exactly at the front of my thinking during this ordeal. Tiff was still breathlessly laughing and was getting to the point that her head was hurting with every ounce of laughter.
The lock was hopeless. The McGyver in me couldn’t figure out how to make a tire gauge open a locked door so it was off to my next adventure… checking windows around the cabin. There was no way I could walk around the house in high heeled snow boots so I elected to remove the liners and go with just the flopping boots… no liner. Off I went. The cabin had always seemed like a modest 2000ish square foot nice place. Nope. As I started walking around it I quickly discovered it is about the same size as the friggin Titanic! I knew I was a long ways from home base because I could no longer hear Tiffany squealing with laughter. It doesn’t mean she wasn’t laughing. I just couldn’t hear her.

As I turned the corner at the south end of the cabin it was obvious I had another problem. Darkness was no longer my friend. There happens to be a lighted tree at Pond’s Lodge that I’m certain was bound for Rockefeller Plaza, but it fell off the truck in Island Park. They erected it here and you can now see it from space. That light shone directly on the side of the cabin I needed to navigate. Guess what? I didn’t care.

Onward. The first window was the kitchen window at the sink. It’s the smallest and highest window. Upon removing the screen, more good news – it opened! Now I only needed to scale the lumber siding and fit through that window! There was an area where the snow slid off the roof that gave a little bit of needed elevation. It seemed fairly firm so I used it as the base. Grabbing the window ledge I planted and shoved off.
My leap of faith became a leap of flop as I collapsed the snow underneath my boots. I jumped out of one boot and started scurrying as good as possible. This is an appropriate place to direct a comment or two to all you cabin builders out there. Dear cabin builders, please oh please… please for the love of Mike will you please be certain to remove all bark from the wood when building cabins in the future? Your thoughtless, selfish, and uncaring ways are not the right ways. Do you realize what tree bark can do to a 250lb naked man from his armpits to his shins? If you don’t change your ways I will send pictures so you can see what bark does. Believe me, you don’t want pictures. Please start removing the bark. Sincerely, Brett Johnson
The idea of scaling up to the window seemed like a good one until my belly button was resting firmly on the sharp windowsill. The following are the thoughts of the two cabin occupants precisely at that moment:
T: Heavenly Father, please let Brett come back safely and please help my head to stop hurting and please let me find a way to stop laughing within the next two weeks and oh, also could you please help us get back into the cabin?
B: Please don’t let anybody drive by right now.

It became necessary for me to hit the reverse button and try to back out of the window. I could no longer lay there and risk my indecent exposure of flailing feet and flabbing rear for anybody to see. I aborted operation kitchen window entry and decided to try other windows. I reinserted my foot into my boot full of snow and ice and proceeded. Was the next window unlocked? Nope. Next? Nope. Next? Nope. Three more windows… all three locked. The kitchen sink window was still open. It was time to get Tiffany less involved in laughing at me and more involved in climbing through windows.
As I rounded the last corner I knew I was nearing the hot tub because sure enough, she was still laughing. At this point life as I know it was coming to an end. I had ice in my hair, it was forming on my arms, it was even starting to develop where… whoa! Back on track now. I recruited Tiffany and told her I had a job for her. She put the liners to the boots on and off we went. It wasn’t exactly our typical Saturday night date, but there we were together, Tiff the boostee and Brett the booster. We found the open kitchen window and I hoisted her to where she could get through ok. She suffered minor scratches and bruising, but she was in. She was in! (The picture to the left of Brett (above the sink)is the one I climbed through)

I have never loved that woman like I loved her at that moment. When our children were born it was something special, but I’ve got to rank the clicking noise of her opening a cabin door as right up there.
I’m not sure who will read this. There is a possibility that it may end up on a blog somewhere or something. If it does and somebody such as my children or church leaders wonder why I was in the compromising situation to begin with, the answer is I’m not sure. I hope if there ever is a next time I’ll choose either to wear more clothes or unlock more doors. In the mean time, I hope Tiff gets her voice back.