Last Sunday, we invited about 10 of Zack's friends from school and the neighborhood to decorate gingerbread houses. Of course, my camera filled up after about four pictures, so there isn't much documentation of the fun that was had. All the kids were great and I noticed that the mess was less than last year.
But that's not what I wanted to talk about.
For this event, I put Georgia up in our bedroom. She gets a bit nervous when there are so many people in Her House, so it's just easier all around for her to be out of the way. From past experience, I knew that I should lock the bedroom door so that little hands didn't help her escape. The door locks from the inside, but it can be opened from the outside (Just wait. You'll find out how).
All was going well. Georgia barked for awhile, but when she started to hear all the kids downstairs, I think she was grateful to be holed up with a bed all to herself. After two hours, all the kids had left except for one and we were starting to clean up. All of a sudden, there was Georgia, licking up sprinkles and pretzels from the floor. Interestingly, Zack was close behind her. I asked him what Georgia was doing downstairs.
"I let her out."
Now I had tested that door and I knew it was locked. So I bit. I asked him how he opened the door.
"I got a stick and put it in the hole, and wiggled it, and the door opened."
And that, my friends, is how you open our locked door from the outside.
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2 comments:
That particular skill doesn't bode well for his career choices!
I hadn't thought of that. I was thinking more along the lines of really needing to pay attention to what we do in front of him. But now you have me worried!
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