This morning my grandson locked us all out of the bathroom. Not WHILE he was in the bathroom mind you, but afterwards. He used the training potty in the bathroom — with the door WIDE OPEN, then locked the door and shut it after he was done. Because boys.
I was going to blow my nose (great, now I have the cold that my son had over the Christmas holiday) but the door was locked. Yes, I use toilet paper instead of kleenex because Kleenex never seems to last long in our house but we’re RARELY out of toilet paper.
We used to have a skeleton key hanging inside the old cupboard doors before we remodeled the kitchen. And now it’s in some box somewhere. Great. That’s helpful.
So I tried an allen wrench. Too big. Okay, now a paper clip. I’m not a criminal, never had to pick a lock or hot-wire a car or break in (or out of anything). I unfold the clip, stick it in the doorknob “key” hole, wiggle it around; nothing. Repeat that a couple of times. Still nothing. Considered taking the doorknob off the set with a screwdriver. Nah, too hard.
Plan C. Go next door to my neighbors and ask Grampa Jim to help a girl out. He digs for his magic tool (more on that later) and by the time I get back home, my granddaughter has opened the lock. Using a paperclip. Because apparently it happens at her house all the time and she’s learned how to open it.
“It’s easy!” she says. “You just stick it in, wiggle it around until you feel the hole and then jab it in.” Well, yeah. Glad she’s got it covered.
Neighbor comes over and it’s already opened. His magic tool was a finish nail (which for the record was too big). But we all gave granddaughter high fives and warned her away from a life of crime and went on our way.
All before the 2nd cup of coffee and 8:30 AM.
Dear granddaughter; please only use your powers for good.