"We'll take care of it ..."

No sweeter words could have been spoken a couple of days ago. We had gone to the local minor-league baseball game and grudgingly forked over $3 to park in the stadium lot.

Then, while reading bumper stickers on the cars around us and wrangling kids and joining the rush of people into the stadium -- we locked the keys in the car. (Pronouns have been changed to protect the guilty ...)

DH started poking around the windows because a couple of his hay customers, oddly enough, were magicians at breaking into cars after locking keys inside. The missing ingredient though, was a wire coat hanger.

Visions of doom crossed my mind: We have only one set of keys; and we couldn't get a ride home with anyone b/c all the inlaws and outlaws went to Canada this week. We'd have to call a locksmith. I saw a bill board for one and called on the cell phone ... but his office hours were 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. The police don't do lock-outs unless it's an emergency such as a baby locked in the car.

Bottom line was ... how much was this going to cost and how would we get home?

I prayed and felt led that we should go inside, find the stadium office and ask about a phone book. Our first stop was the Fan Assistance Center. I told the gal on duty what we'd done and asked if they had a phone book so I could call a locksmith.

Bless her heart, she said, "Let me call someone here." She did and told whoever about it. Then they asked if it were in their lot, license number and so on.

The guy who answered the page had sort of a dark-haired Italian "Wise guy" look to him. "We'll take care of it," he said.

DD and I went ahead to the game. Then we got paged to the fan center about "some valuables for you." Lo and behold there were the keys.

The wise guy must have spoken to his associates and there we were. No charge. How thankful we were! I think the $3 for parking was money well spent.

And we are going to get a second set of keys.