Open, sesame. I said OPEN, DAMMIT.

One of the things that was Too Good To Be True about this house is the electric gate in the middle of the driveway. If we had no dog, that would be unnecessary. But since Murphy's idea of a hot night on the town is barreling down the driveway and out the gate and around the corner up the street, this gate made my heart sing when we were looking at the house. Once we finally got the post moved to where it lines up with the closed gate (thank you Randy), Murphy could no longer get out of the driveway and I could open the back door and let him roam free without worrying about the dangers of his streetscapades.

One day when the boys decide to go play outside, it's going to be good for keeping them in bounds too.

However, this gate continues to be quite the source of consternation for me.

There are three remote thingies that open the gate. One for my car. One for Corey's car and one for the kitchen window. Or Cydney Wilson should she decide to commandeer it, which she is prone to do. There is also a keypad by the back door where you can, allegedly, enter a code and have the gate open. I'm not going to describe to you the different scenarios whereupon a working keypad would save steps in the process to get down the driveway, either by vehicle or by foot if you are rolling the garbage cans to the street.

Yes, I know. Poor little girl can't get the keypad to her luxurious electric driveway gate to open. Screw you. When you are bitterly functioning as the head of household while Uncle Sam hijacks your husband and deposits him in distant lands, it's the success of small things that keeps your spirits up.

First, I had to locate the owner's manual for the keypad, much like how I had to find the directions to operate my computerized thermostat. Thanks, Google. Then I followed all the directions in the manual - making sure the dip switches on the control box and the remote controls match the dip switches on the keypad, resetting the whole box because the previous owners didn't leave me shit least of all a 4-digit code to work the bastard, entering the factory master code only to have sassy keypad spew hate-filled beeps at me clearly indicating I'm an idiot and am doing it wrong - and the gate remains closed. I called the 800-number on the keypad (by the way, the company is GTO, which stands for GATES THAT OPEN! Douchebags!) and the automated lady told me I have to go online to get 24-hour technical assistance. That directs me to the same GD set of instructions that did not work, no matter how many times I've repeated the steps in the last five days. If those steps don't work, you can fill out a trouble ticket and someone will get in touch with you in 24 hours.

I swannee.

.....