Skrip - tyur' - i - ent: adj. Possessing the violent desire to write.



There’s something wrong with the doorknob to our bedroom. In a couple of occasions when The Scientist has closed the door I haven’t been able to get it open from the outside. Something is screwed up with the mechanism; I can turn the knob but the bolt doesn’t turn. I noticed this a couple of months ago, and I’ve been meaning to do something about it. Which makes me kick myself all the harder because of what happened last night.

Lily locked herself in our room and we couldn’t get her out.

It was right after bathtime, and while we where dealing with Macey, Lily ran giggling into our room and slammed the door shut. When we tried to open the door, it wouldn’t. I tried for 10 minutes to pull up and turn, push forward and turn, pull out and turn… all with no luck. Lily was still laughing inside, saying, “Daddy, come get me!”

However, after a bit, the laughter stopped and Lily started to sound worried. “Daddy, let me OUT!” Then she started to sound scared. I was trying hard to avoid doing what I knew I’d have to do if I couldn’t get the door open. But finally, with my 2 ½-year-old starting to panic, there was nothing left to do.

I got the ladder out of the garage, put it up to the second story bedroom window, climbed up (in the rain), punched through the screen, threw the screen to the ground and climbed in the window. While I was climbing in, Lily says, “Daddy! You’re outside. You’re going to get all wet!”

The door opened easily from the inside, of course. Now, if the window had been locked, I would have literally had to break down the door. And I’m not entirely sure how I would have done that without hurting Lily on the other side. So, this worked out better than it might have otherwise.

Needless to say, I immediately took off the door knob. Once apart, it was easy to see that one of the doodads inside was bent.

Now I’m down one screen for the bedroom. And up one important parenting lesson.


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