James and I have been doing a bit of house hunting (with not much luck, but that's another story). A few weekends ago we went to look at a bungalow in Cochrane. Nana and Pops were nice enough to watch K so that we only had C to lug along with us and he's usually pretty easy.
C's new thing is closing doors. He thinks its funny, and then he knocks so you'll let him out. Its actually pretty cute. So we're strolling through the basement, checking out the space, James and the realtor is looking at a workshop in the back, and C starts playing with the bathroom door. He closes it, I open it, he laughs. He closes it, I open it, he laughs. He closes it, I....uh-oh. Its locked.
Yep. I just let my 20 month old lock himself into the bathroom of a house we don't own or know the owners. Nice.
He's laughing, and knocking, and flushing the toilet, and I'm deciding whether to be panicked, or mortified, or a little of both.
Luckily James is an ace at opening locked doors with the inside of a ballpoint pen.
The whole situation lasted about 2 minutes. But the shame will last forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment