I came home from work on Tuesday and found my bedroom door in this condition:
Our bedroom door has never locked. It’s been broken since we moved into this house nearly three years ago.
And somehow, during the day, our little MacGyver managed to lock himself in our bedroom alone. Our beloved Miss S babysits the tinies two mornings a week so that I can work at Mercy. She tried for an entire hour to get Joe out but finally had to call Brian at work to come home.
Brian tried to pick the lock for another thirty minutes. All this time, Joe was in there alone, devastated.
Anne took her role as Job’s Comforter very seriously, standing on the other side of the door, offering dire predictions of what it would look like to grow up alone in the bedroom. Surprisingly this did not help calm Joe down.
“Joe! You need to calm down if you’re going to live in the bedroom. Maybe I can slide crackers under the door to you. What if you can NEVER GET OUT? What if you have to STAY THERE FOREVER?” while Brian gritted his teeth and informed her she was not, in fact, helping.
Brian finally coached Joe to calm and then onto the bed – “YES, DADDY, MY AM ON THE BED.” – before putting his elbow into the door lock and just bursting through, breaking the door.
Joe, tear-stained and terrified, sat on the bed and he immediately clapped his hands and shrieked, Oh, Daddy! YOU SAVED ME!
Brian modestly said, “Yes, yes, I did, I’m your hero.”
|That’s Shaun. He likes to ride the teeter-totter with Joe quite a bit.|