Look at this cute little boy. It's my grandson Hudson (14 months old on the day this was taken). Maybe, he's wondering, "Why is my KK outside and I'm in here? Why is Fiona outside with KK and Boudreaux is in here with me? Why are my other grandparents outside now? Why is my Daddy driving up and frantically running to the door?"
The good news is that he will not remember this day when I locked myself out of the house while Hudson was inside the house. For a good thirty minutes it was sheer panic as other doors and windows were tested, calls were made, and text messages were sent.
Hudson's mommy (Blue-Eyed Bride) is attending BlogHer 2010 in New York; I am in South Carolina with Hudson and his daddy and the two dogs. On the evening in question, Hudson's daddy had dashed off to church to attend a meeting. I had phoned in an order for food delivery. When it arrived, I opened the door to receive the food and pay. That's when the little devil dog Fiona who barks at every living thing decided to dash out the front door. Impulsively, I closed the door behind me to keep Boudreaux, the better behaved Golden Retriever, inside, as well as not allowing Hudson to wander out on the porch and fall off the steps! Quick-thinking grandma, right? Seriousy, WRONG! The little auto-lock button was pressed, and I was locked out. Yikes.
I grabbed the food guy's phone, having a brief Carrie Bradshaw moment in reverse. It was not a fancy sophisticated iPhone like mine. It was some outdated version with buttons to push. (Food guy later said, "Wow, you figured that phone out a lot faster than I did." Shut up and just give me the phone.)
Sequence of events:
1) Call Hudson's daddy. No answer; in meeting.
2) Call Hudson, my husband, in Dallas, Texas, imploring him to text Todd and give me the phone number for Hudson's other grandfather (and don't ask questions, just do it).
3) Call other grandparents, who happen to be 5 minutes away having dinner, asking if they have key (already know they don't and there is not one hidden somewhere).
4) Ask food guy to watch Hudson, who is standing on the sofa watching all of this through the window, while I run to back door just to check. I do; it is locked; take note I can easily break out a window pane and reach to unlock that door as the keys are in the lock.
5) Run back to front (running is a figure of speech here, understand, as I am aced bandaged on this particular day); Hudson is still standing on the sofa. I can get an occasional grin from him by singing and making funny faces. My goal is to keep him on that sofa looking at me so I can know where he is and what he is doing. He is capable of getting off the sofa without getting hurt; that is, unless Boudreaux accidentally knocks him off. Every time I tapped on the window to get Hudson's attention, Boudreaux would jump up on the sofa to see who was calling him. Tell food guy that he is in charge of keeping devil dog Fiona, who is incessantly barking at food guy, in the front yard.
6) Other grandparents arrive and start checking everything I have just checked.
7) Hudson's daddy calls his dad and says he is ten minutes away. He had received text. I say, "Can you make it 3 minutes, please?"
8) Food guy is still there because he wants his tip. I ask other grandfather to please tip him so he can leave. He does and he does.
9) When other grandparents arrive, Hudson starts to shed a few tears because he wants to be where we are. The tears begin to increase and it turns into sobbing.
10) Daddy arrives, driving like sixty! Dashes from the car to the front door to unlock and rescue Hudson from the evil grandmother.
I had been praying all the time that Hudson would just stay on that sofa and be safe until his daddy arrived. It was all fine, and Hudson was grinning in no time.
My son (now twenty-four) reminded me of a similar incident when I coached him through unlocking the back door when I was locked outside. I didn't recall it (your mind erases those dreadful things), but did remember when I locked him in a running vehicle when he was only a few weeks old and had to call a locksmith to unlock the car. There was, also, the time when I broke out a window and had my son crawl through it to unlock the door (he was smaller and could fit through that one pane size). I also recall coaching our miniature dachshund, who was locked inside the car, into jumping on the door lock to successfully unlock the door. (See any patterns here?) I'm sure that my husband could recount a multitude of like events.
I am happy to report that the subsequent days have been less eventful and that Hudson's daddy is regaining confidence in my ability to care for his son. Do you have a locked-out story?
"To the angel of the church in Philadelphia write:
These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.
Note: Photo is a reenactment of actual event.