Burglars: Please don't read this!

As we left the house this morning to walk to her CCD religious education class, Annika said:
"I hope you have your key, because I locked the door!"
Oh, I had a key alright. I had the dead-bolt key. I did not, however, have the key for the lock she used.
I had left the front door unlocked, as we were expecting an electrician to arrive this morning to complete a rewiring task. When we reached the sidewalk, Annika realized she had forgotten her CCD folder and she dashed back into the house to retrieve it... and to lock the door on her way back outside.
I remained calm as we walked to the neighborhood church. I began to fret on my walk back home.
My wife is a couple hundred miles away this weekend and the cats don't yet know how to unlock the door, so unless I fancied spending ALL DAY outside, I needed to break into my own house.
I tried my key in the obviously futile hope that it WAS the correct key. It wasn't, of course. I tried unhooking the chain lock on the back door without success.
I had to try opening a window.
While I was casing my own house, the electrician pulled up in his truck.
Do you know how embarrassing it is explaining to an electrician that you are locked out of your own house? In a word? VERY!
He left, promising to come back Tuesday, and I turned my attention to the various windows. About 25 minutes later, I succeeded in identifying the weak link in our home's defenses -- the one window an amateur intruder can open.
Unfortunately, a table laden with candles, photo frames and even a lamp blocked my path. While holding the window open with one hand, I cleared items off the table with the other. Then, I had to haul myself into the house by gripping the table with one hand and holding open the window with the other.
That is the moment when I:
1) Cut my finger.
2) Scared the BEEJEZUS out of our cats.
They remain in hiding, actually, convinced that my EVIL TWIN has initiated a daring, deadly raid to maim and pillage.
Actually, I believe the electrician thinks that, too.