We seldom lock our doors

But perhaps from now on I will, just so I will remember how the locks work.  No, I did not have anybody scare me last night, but here's how it went down:  
Since I had told the Internets that I was home alone for the night, I decided it would be wise to lock the doors before I went to bed, and I did.  I used the dead-bolt locks and the doorknob push-button locks.  You might think this makes it sound as though I was frightened, but I wasn't.  I just figured, better safe than sorry.  Of course, we're talking about a mobile home, so anybody who really wanted in badly enough could find a way; all they'd need is a can opener.  But I digress.  
It was still dark this morning when I went out to feed my baby calves their bottles.  Their last bottles, by the way.  They are officially weaned.  Because the calves are pretty much in the front yard, I don't worry about what I'm wearing when I go out to chore.  Today I had my red Mickey Mouse pajamas with a pink housecoat over that.  I put on the long, worn-out red coat I wear around here and a sock hat, and headed out the door with the two bottles.  
Oops, the door was locked.  I put down the bottles and unlocked the dead bolt lock, then reached down and turned the knob and the door opened.  I fed the cats and calves as usual, admired the moon and thanked God for the loveliness of His creation, and came back to the house.  The doorknob wouldn't budge.  It was locked.  
That's when I remembered that when the button lock on the doorknob is pushed, you can open the door from the inside, but it's still locked on the outside.  I was locked out.
What to do.  
I've heard people talk about getting doors unlocked with a butter knife or credit card, so I went to our garage to see if I could find anything like that.  I did find a little blister-pack of nails that had an edge similar to a credit card and tried it.  I couldn't even find a place where it would slip in between the door and the door casing!  Iris, who was outside with me, was really wanting to to get into the warmth of the house, and she had no clue why I wasn't letting her in.  
Of course I am doing some praying while all this is going on, and also talking to myself.
"It wouldn't kill me to spend the day outside," I told myself.  "Cliff will be home sometime this afternoon; I have warm clothes on, and it wouldn't hurt me to get hungry for once in my life."  
Then I realized that Cliff would be trying to call me to let me know he was on his way; if he tried a few times and didn't get me, he would be frantic, because he is a worry-wort when it comes to me.  What to do.  
OK, I could walk across the road to a neighbor's house, ask to borrow their phone, and call Cliff so he wouldn't worry.  I do have his number memorized.  I'd feel pretty silly showing up at Judy and Keith's door in my pajamas, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  
Then out of nowhere I remembered something:  We have a key hidden for times like these!  After fifteen minutes or so of despair, there was hope.  I took a short walk and got the key.  I don't think we've ever used it before, and it didn't unlock the door at first.  I wiggled it and jiggled it, and after what seemed like an eternity, I must have done something right.  The door opened.  
I think I might go back to bed and get some sleep.  All this excitement has worn me out.