Trapped at the Fred Meyer gas station

Today Rachel accidentally locked Ingrid in the car at the gas station. She'd just given Ingrid a snack so our little girl sat there unperturbed in the carseat eating craisins and goldfish as the windows slowly frosted over (it was -30F).

There wasn't a phone in the gas-shack so Rachel told the gas attendant to watch the car while she ran into Fred Meyer. The police department told her they could come, but their only mode of entry was to break the window. "Call a taxi, they always have door opening equipment," the dispatcher said (when I heard this I was deeply disappointed in the Fairbanks PD, though the bright side of their complacency is that I don't know anyone who has gotten a traffic ticket in Fairbanks).

Ten minutes later a cabby came, wearing short sleeves and no gloves (no joke). By this time Ingrid's breath had thoroughly encrusted the inside of all the windows so the grumpy man couldn't see the lock controls. After ten minutes of scrambling, prying, and poking the door swung open.

"Here's your daughter back. That'll be 35 bucks."

Here's Ingrid with her imaginary friend Jailey. Rachel didn't tell the cab driver Jailey was also in the car for fear he'd charge her more.