So, after a disappearing act from Noah a few weeks ago while we were leisurely contemplating staying in bed for just a few more minutes, I came up with some pretty serious armour to keep Noah from going outside. (His door opens to the front porch.) Baby proof doorknob cover, lock the door just in case, deadbolt it, and an extra flap lock out of Noah’s reach. Day after day, he’s happily playing in his room when I come to check on him in the morning. No more escapes. Mommy’s brilliant tactics win again.
Last weekend I went out Noah’s door to the porch to talk to Andrew. I shut the door behind me. I think Andrew and I were sharing a quick kiss or hug or something, and I heard Noah lauging at the window. Ha ha. He thinks it’s funny that mommy and daddy are kissing. How cute. My darling boy.
I put my hand on the doorknob to come back inside. Nothing. The darn thing wouldn’t turn. Number one reason why doorknobs don’t turn? Because they are locked. Number one reason why children laugh at the window at their parents outside? Because they locked the door.
“NOAH!!!!” As I yelled his name, I distinctly remembered a similar scene 14 years ago when my eldest daughter thought something similar was hilarious. I think it took me 15 minutes to get her to open the door.
Back to Noah. Then I heard a clink, clunk and clank. That would be the door lock turning, the deadbolt turning, and the flap lock being flipped. And then he opened the door.
Apparently he has just been humoring me these last few weeks by staying in his room in the morning. Glad it didn’t take him 15 minutes to open the door.