Locked Out

Most of you know that I am no stranger to being locked out of the house. I've lost keys in rivers and down elevator shafts among other places. It became so frequent that the week we move into a new place, we make many, many copies of our key and give them to everyone we know, because the chances are really high that we will come knocking one day soon to borrow that key back to let ourselves back into our house. I say "our" because Mark has gotten just as bad about doing it as I am.

So, imagine my surprise today when I found myself locked out of my house and I was not at fault. That's right, my precious little Finn locked me out of the house while I was taking out the recycling. And not the front door because that would have been too easy to run over to my neighbor to get a spare key. No, he locked the storm door, which has no key. So there I am banging on my own front door telling Finn, "hey honey let mommy in the door." While he is turning the lock to no avail. He finally shuts the main door so that he can stick his hand through the mail slot to wave at me. And then he goes to the window so he can watch.

Well, thank goodness that my neighbor is a contractor because I ran over to get him and he brought his tools and I was back inside in less than a few minutes. And I know he's thinking, poor kid, stuck inside his house all alone, he must be terrified. And I'm thinking, oh no, he's stuck in the house all by himself, he will TEAR THE PLACE APART! Of course he was fine, sitting as his table eating his snack like nothing was wrong.