Toddler Investigation

Call me Mother of the Year.

Proving once and for all that Tula requires constant supervision...

A dear friend and I had the good fortune to have our children at the same time. Her son is six months younger than Peanut, and her daughter is four days older than Tula. With summer vacation beginning to wind down, we felt the need for a play date. As there are a couple of parks within walking distance of our house, our friends came to us.

The good news is our kids played together beautifully. My friend and I got a chance to catch up on life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as we watched our children run amok on the playground. Even leaving the park wasn't that painful. At least, it wasn't that painful until we got home.

Peanut, in an effort to be helpful, ran to open the door for our guests. His small face fell as he looked at me and said, "Mommy, the door won't open."

I tried the door. It was locked, because Tula has figured out how to play with the doors and that lock in particular. Since I wasn't the last one out, I didn't think to check if she'd gotten adventurous again. And yes, my keys were in the house with all windows shut and locked.

In a slight panic, I called Boomer to figure out my next move. He was about 90 minutes away, and suggested I call a locksmith. I pointed out that the phone book was safely locked in the house. He took pity on me and got the number. Thankfully, the locksmith came right out and started working on letting us into our air-conditioned house.

And that's when his pick broke off in our lock.

No, I'm not making this up.

Quit laughing.

It took a few more minutes, but the locksmith was able to bust us into our house. He was nice enough to not charge for the broken pick, claiming that happened more often than I'd think. He also suggested hiding a key for just this situation. I'm on it. I'm also not letting Tula anywhere near the locks of this house.

Call me Mother of the Year.