Today is Thursday, so Allie is at pre-school. One of the main perks of pre-school (aside from Allie getting an education and all) is that I have Nicole’s nap time completely to myself. I can do whatever I want: Read. Clean. Watch TV that does not include weirdly-intelligent monkeys.
You can imagine my excitement when noon-thirty rolled around, and I announced to Coco that it was nap time. She grabbed her blankie, two stuffed puppies and her sippy cup and headed upstairs with me.
After I changed her diaper and she had set up her ‘lovies’ in the exact right place, we were ready to read her story. For the last three plus months, the only story she has asked for is, “Jingle, The Husky Pup.” It’s a sweet story, but anything read two times a day for three straight months can get a bit old. Especially since Nicole is so particular about the way we read it. She has several items on each page that she must point to, and if we miss one, she will insist on going back so it can be properly pointed out. Also, the door to her room must be closed while we read.
I thought nothing of it when Nicole got up and carefully shut the door as I hurriedly read her story. When we made it to the end, and Nicole had pointed out the last item in the book (candy cane), I covered her up and gave her a kiss. Then, as I do every day, I closed the blackout shade and walked to the door toward sweet freedom.
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| The Perpetrator: 2'6'' tall. 31 lbs. Brown Eyes, Blonde Hair. |
Only sweet freedom was nowhere to be found. Because the door knob wouldn’t turn. Coco, who has never until this day successfully locked or unlocked a door, had locked us in. I turned it a little more fiercely, and panic began to set in. I had left my phone downstairs, and the only key to our doors is kept above the bathroom door in the hall.
I turned on the light, which is about when Coco noticed something was up. She got out from under her blanket and walked over to the door knob. She did some fierce turning herself, and then looked at me and said, “uh-oh Mama.” Uh-oh indeed.
I tried to think of something long, thin and pointy that might be in the girls’ room. But the girls are 5 and 2, so we spend a lot more time making sure pointy things are out of their room rather than in.
Thankfully, Nicole had been doing some thinking of her own. She grabbed one of her favorite board books and shoved it between the door knob and the frame. This technique, as you may have imagined, was quite unsuccessful. She abandoned the attempt and went to Allie’s nightstand where she retrieved a pair of sunglasses and a flashlight. Helpful, that one.
In the meantime, I found a single artificial flower on the girls’ dresser. I popped the bud off, and hopefully poked the stem into the lock. No such luck. The hangers in the girls’ closet were too big, and the posts in the door were too tight to move. I had pretty much exhausted all hope of getting out of there without assistance.
This was pretty problematic for several reasons. First, Chris was supposed to be working late, and he wouldn’t be home until 6:30 pm. Secondly, Allie’s pre-school closes at 6:00, and they would have been pretty worried if nobody came to get her. Thirdly, I had to pee.
I looked over at Coco, who had apparently given up on escape and had decided to take a nap. I turned off the light and then remembered something which would become crucial to my getaway: Allie has an iPhone. My dad gave her his old one so that she can listen to music at night, play games, and take pictures. It doesn’t have a sim card, but it does have wi-fi. Thank goodness for spoiled five year olds.
I turned it on and began face-timing every one of her contacts. It didn’t take long because she only has three: her Grammy, Opsi, and her Auntie Laura. Sadly, none of them answered. I sent a few iMessages as well before recalling my most favorite app in all the world: Facebook.
It only took a couple of minutes to download the app and login, and just like that, I was connected to the world again. I posted this plea for help: Umm--Coco just locked me in her room (we have the lock turned around for Allie). I have nothing but Allie's iPod. I need someone to call Chris or if you live near by let me out!!! Message me if you can and ill get you his number or our garage code. Facebook world don't fail me now!! ;)
I tagged a few friends who live in the area in the hopes of expediting things a bit. It only took a couple of minutes before the comments and offers of assistance began coming in (thank you, fellow Facebook addicts, thank you).
I guess I should note that my Facebook status was not particularly well-worded. Mainly because it made it sound as if I was inside the room while Coco was running pell mell about the house. Had this been the case, I think she would have a) gobbled up all of the jelly beans she could find b) brought me my phone, or c) managed to unlock the door. But this was not the case, so my apologies to anyone who was worried about my child’s safety during this whole ordeal.
I should also note, before anyone calls the Child Abuse Hotline, that we never lock Allie in her room. Well, hardly ever. We haven’t even had to threaten it in ages, but it was pretty effective in getting Allie to stay in her room at bedtime.
Anyway, some good friends of mine called Chris almost immediately and explained my predicament. They also stopped by the house and tried to use our garage code to open the door. But fate was against me, and the door wouldn’t open.
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| The attempted break-in. |
Being the marvelous friends they are, and after checking for any unlocked windows, they headed to Walmart to get a new battery for the keyless entry on the garage, or a screw driver or something to toss up to me through Cole’s window.
At that point, there was not much to do but wait. I perused Facebook a bit and discovered a pretty cute way to make a birthday cake. I messaged a bit with my sister and browsed Pinterest. I even searched for ‘locked in.’ The results included a heart shaped egg on toast, a pair of earrings and a tub of beer. Huh. Who would have guessed?
Then I heard a door open and footsteps downstairs. I have never been quite so overjoyed to hear an unknown person inside my house. The girls’ bedroom door opened seconds later, and there stood my hubby, Chris. My knight-in-shining-armor (or rather my knight in jeans and a polo shirt).
Thanks to good friends and spouses for making this a blog about how much I love Facebook...and not a frightening tale about how I yelled for help out the window for three hours only to have to pee in one of Nicole’s diapers while Allie sat forlorn and seemingly forgotten at her preschool. Yes. Thank you.
