As you probably know from prior posts, I’ve been trying to limit my iPhone usage when around my kids, a feat far easier said than done for me. But I try to keep the phone squared away in the cabinet until ideally the kids are either
a- not physically present, or
b- not in need of my attention, which
c- NEVER REALLY HAPPENS.
But in this ONE particular case, I was glad that I happened to have my phone on my person.
Recently, our youngest son outgrew his crib. I say “outgrew”, because it sounds a lot better than saying he had taken to “swinging himself up and out of the crib like a tiny jet-propulsion engine”.
We tried various methods, then opted for the game-changer:
The toddler bed.
Gone were the days of enclosure. Over were the days of plopping him into his crib and taking some time to relax (haha. Fold laundry, scrub floors, etc. You know, “relax”).
Naptime became a time of repeatedly entering the room, with stern admonishments to “stay in bed.’
“Stay in bed.”
“STAY IN BED!!!!
#6 initially took that to mean: “DESTROY every inch of your room first, including your bed, but stay on it.”
#6 would loiter around his room, and eventually end up falling fast asleep anywhere BUT in the bed. But no worries- he was at least IN his room.
Until one day….
Now granted, the door to our sons’ room is in need of repair; the hinges are cracked, which leaves the door slightly askew. After a few repeated escapes, The Captain resorted to placing one of those plastic door knob protectors on the doorknob inside his room, discouraging him from opening the door.
Which seemed great…. until he opened the door. Somehow.
…and appeared at my bedside at 2am… reeking of peanut butter and peering at me from between his gooey, peanut-coated fingers.
(Note to Self: Lock Pantry)
So we entered phase 2- total lockdown. The Captain reversed the doorknob, so that the door could be locked from the outside. No problem, right?
WRONG.
Six minutes after his last cup of water and tuck, the door creaked open, and out popped a triumphant #6, bounding proudly into the living room.
Again.
And again.
And again.
So finally, I scooped him up, and carried him into his bedroom, securing the door firmly behind us in the dark. I stroked his head, sang to him, and gingerly crept toward the door. I squeezed the plastic door knob protector quietly, and… nothing.
The knob wouldn’t turn.
Uhhhh….
It… was… locked.
Apparently, unbeknownst to me, #6 had managed to jiggle his door open without actually unlocking it. And in closing the door behind us, I’d managed to lock it.
I’m not inclined to panic. But as I sat in the dark, pondering how to get myself out, I also realized one critical factor.
I had to pee.
So what to do? Granted, my bedroom was right next door, but my pounding on the wall did nothing to awaken The Captain, who sleeps like the dead. Staying in the room all night was NOT an option, because like I said, PEE.
The room was pitch-black. The plastic doorknob cover was still on. I scrambled to pry it off, but couldn’t even see where the clips met.
Do I open the window and hop out? No WAY- if #6 caught me, he’d TOTALLY do it next time, too. It’s dark. And stuffy. This room is smaller than I thought. Yup. Still had to pee.
But then… A-HA! The magic moment…. in the form of my iPhone, which I’d stashed in my back pocket prior to hauling #6 back to his room.
I turned on the flashlight app- the bright beam immediately lit up the corner of the room, which, like wearing a miner’s helmet:
A- enabled me to finally pop the plastic doorknob cover off, and
B- caused #6 to abruptly pop his head off his pillow: “Wha? Wha Momma??”
Although I was able to finally pop the cover off, the knob was indeed still locked. But then… thanks once again to my trusty iPhone, I was able to PHONE A FRIEND…
.. by dialing my house number….
My ear cupped to the wall, I heard the ring, then another ring, then…
The Captain: “uhhh ughafhjfakf uh hulllllo?”
Me: “It’s me (like I NEEDED to clarify that??). I’m stuck in #6’s room.”
THAT’S when you know you’ve been married for a long time.
Because The Captain didn’t ask me why. Or how. Or speak at all. He merely lumbered to the door, unlocked it, turned, and limped drowsily back into bed.
Thankfully, #6 was too tired from witnessing the nocturnal shenanigans to do anything but fall fast asleep.
But the next day, during naptime, he once again emerged from his room, door STILL locked, with the plastic knob transferred from his bedroom door onto his closet door, all “by mesef!”
SHOW OFF…..
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