Shortly after putting Alastair to bed, I went out the front door to strap the Miata to the trailer (going to VIR on Thursday!). After 3 minutes, I heard wailing and pounding. I turned around to see my son at the front door, crying and pounding on the storm door. I rushed to him and asked him what was wrong, why he was out of bed.
He replied that he couldn't see me from his room, that he'd been looking out the window watching the cars when he heard me open the storm door, and that he had gotten scared. I told him all was well, tucked him back into bed, told him that I'd be outside for a couple of minutes, and left him.
This time I went out the back door. He can't hear the back door, and I figured I'd be safe.
When I came back in, all was quiet, but for some reason the front door was open. I was sure I'd closed it, but there it was: plain as day. Propped open with our door-stop and everything. Oh, well. I closed it and went on with my business.
Then I heard him rummaging around again, so I went to check on him. Turns out when I went back outside, he snuck downstairs to look for me, and having not found me in the house, proceeded to unlock, open, and prop the front door.
What a nut! Thank goodness I noticed (there have been times...). I told him that he can't do that, because that's how bad people get into the house.
Sheesh. Toddlers.
1 comment:
Yep, you gotta watch those little, not so little, ones. I had to put a chain on our door because Rachael is now able to undo the bolt lock and walk right out or answer the door for whoever. The chain is high enough that neither of the kids can reach it, but Joseph has figured out he can get to it from the living room chair. Always something!
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