Unlucky with Locks

Once upon a time in Mexico, when Chris was out of town, I was charged with the task of getting Jacob up, ready for school and putting him on the bus to school. Everywhere else we have lived, this has always been my duty, but since Jacob gets on the bus at 6:15 a.m. now, and Chris is up anyway fueling himself with 18 cups of coffee before work, it only seemed reasonable that he get Jacob ready for school while I sleep as long as possible. But on this particular day, Chris was out of town, so it was up to me to see Jacob off. That was Mistake #2. I'll get to Mistake #1 in a minute.

Andrew had awaken at 4 a.m., so I had put him in bed with me. As I rolled out of bed at 5:40 a.m., I groggily thought about moving him back to his own bed, but instead, I surrounded him with pillows, convinced that I would hear him as soon as he woke up and therefore would be able to rescue him from the bed before he tried to escape on his own. I didn't want to move him and risk waking him too early. Mistake #3.

Jacob got up without a fuss, dressed, downed two bowls of cereal, brushed his teeth, spiked his mohawk, and was ready five minutes ahead of schedule. That's when I decided that we would wait for the driver outside. That was Mistake #4.

I exited the house first, deliberately leaving the door ajar. Before I could get the words, "Don't shut the door" out of my mouth, Jacob bounced outside, slamming the door behind him. As the door closed abruptly, my stomach sank. I ran back and jiggled the knob, but it was just as I had suspected. I was locked out. At 6:10 in the morning. In my pajamas. Without my phone. Mistakes #5, 6, and 7.

Jacob and I quickly ran around to the back of the house, hoping that I had accidentally forgotten to lock one of the three doors into the house. I had, but unfortunately, I hadn't forgotten to lock the sliding bar doors. But at least I had a window in. Jacob and I started yelling for Benjy and rattling the bars. I shook; Jacob jumped. No matter how much we shouted and rattled our cage, no one stirred upstairs. After a couple of fruitless minutes, I shushed Jacob, fearing that we would wake up Andrew instead, who would fall of the bed trying to rescue me. Plus, I was fairly certain that I had not closed the baby gate at the top of the stairs. Mistake #8.

The driver, who was running a few minutes late that morning, finally showed up, and Jacob and I ran back to the front of the house to meet him and plead for help.

"I've locked myself out of the house," I explained. "And my other two kids are still inside sleeping. Can you please call someone to get me back in? I don't have my phone either."

"Can't your husband just let you in?" he asked.

"Hmmm. I hadn't thought of that. That would be the perfect solution, if he were home," I thought but didn't say. Instead, I just said, quite demurely, "He's out of town."

The driver called GSO and whisked Jacob off to school, and I was left to entertain myself with thoughts of Andrew falling down the stairs. I was within our outer wall, so none of my neighbors were witnesses to my predicament, but nonetheless, I was completed humiliated when GSO showed up 10 minutes later to make sure that I wasn't in danger, i.e. hanging out on the street. Assured that I wasn't too cold and indeed was safe, he headed to the consulate to get the spare set of keys to our house.

I went around to the back of the house again, where I thought I would at least be able to hear the kids when they woke up. The house was still silent, and I prayed that GSO would return before that changed. To distract myself, I grabbed one of the boys rackets and hit a tennis ball against the wall over and over and over again. The rhythmic sound was distracting. I'm sure my neighbors were loving me by this point. They could only hear but not see the mad woman behind the wall shouting and shaking the bars and now bouncing a tennis ball over and over and over again.

I was really getting into my game when I heard the first cries. I dropped my racket and ran to the bars, clinging to them and listening as hard as I could. It was Benjy, and he was looking for me. I jumped up and down and called for him to come down stairs. Slowly, I saw him descend the stairs, stumbling and holding his pants.

"Oh thank God. You wet your bed," I said, realizing that this accident had been the reason that he had awaken. Benjy looked at me confused but didn't question my enthusiasm. He had never seen me so happy about a wet bed in all his life.

I was able to direct Benjy to my purse and keys, and he handed them to me through the bars. I unlocked the bars, ran inside, and gave him the biggest hug of his life. "You're my hero," I told him. He wasn't impressed. And that's when Andrew woke up, right on schedule and not a moment too soon.

Sometime during the clothes changing and baby getting, I called GSO to let him know that I no longer needed him to save me. "Good," he said, "because you never gave us the extra keys back to your house. I was about to call a locksmith." (Mistake #1: committed several weeks prior). I thanked him profusely and got off the phone with him as quickly as possible, before I could embarrass myself anymore.

I was on the phone with Chris later that evening, telling him this whole tragic story, with him laughing hysterically on the other end of the line, when I found myself in yet another predicament. Andrew was asleep in our room, in his bed this time, so I had stepped out on the balcony to get better cell phone reception. Mistake #9. Jacob had gotten car sick that evening, so I had put him to bed, and Benjy was playing somewhere by himself.

I hung up the phone, having given Chris enough comic relief for one night, and tried to go back inside. Somehow, the sliding glass door had locked itself, and I was once again, stranded outside, but this time on the second floor. You can only imagine the expletives running through my head. How the heck does someone lock herself out of her own house twice in one day? Well, I always did like a challenge.

I knew one thing for certain, even if I had to sleep out on the balcony all night in the cold, there was no way I was calling GSO to come rescue me twice in one day, even if I did have my phone this time.

Just as I was hoisting a leg over the wall to try to jump from ledge to ledge to the ground level, where I knew I'd left a door unlocked, my hero came looking for me again. Illuminated by the light spilling from the front door, Benjy literally glowed with heroism as he tentatively called out, "Mommy!"

"I'm up here, sweetheart!" I joyously called out, trying to right myself before he noticed my Spiderman impersonation. I certainly didn't want him getting any ideas.

Benjy looked up at me confused. "What you doin' up there?" he asked.

I chose to ignore that question, and instead, with my perkiest voice and biggest smile, said "Come upstairs to my room and open the door."

He looked up at me blankly, and said, matter-of-factly, "Mommy, I need batteries for my toy." He was so obviously unfazed by my command or my crisis.

"Benjy," I said insistently, "Come let me inside, and we'll see about those batteries."

"Okay," he said and disappeared back into the house. A minute later, I was safely back inside and rewarding my hero with the second biggest hug of his life--and batteries.

It only took two lock outs and two rescues by a three-year-old in one day for me to learn my lesson. From now on, I'm trusting Benjy with the extra keys.