When I was about four years old, I accidentally locked myself in our bathroom. This was due to my lifelong strict bathroom privacy policy (thus the locking) and panic (thus the failure to do the unlocking). The door had one of those locks that slide across and drop down. I have a vivid memory of looking at this brass lock and thinking, "Oh no! I can't open this!" I was rescued by my dad who had to climb up to the second story window. Not a fun experience for little Katie at the time, but it allowed provided a funny, memorable childhood story, as well as some aunt-niece bonding--my aunt Mary Ann is just five years older and sent me the note below.
One weekend when I was down from USU visiting the family (where I got my teaching certificate, for those wondering, I thought she went to BYU?), my brother Travis hid my car keys in attempt to keep me there a little longer. Unfortunately, I didn't know they were hidden until he was gone. I was pretty mad and very frustrated. I needed to get back up to Logan in time to do some job hunting, an activity I already detest on its own, let alone with complications. After spending a good 30 minutes looking for them and trying to reach Travis (whom I rightfully suspected in having a role in this), I gave up, resigned myself to being stuck at home, and made myself some lunch. In the course of lunchmaking, I found the keys: Tada! Microwave. Of course---why didn't I look there first, right? By then I wasn't really mad anymore, so the discovery elicited a mere eye roll. Soon my mom came home. Now the hidden keys and being trapped in Salem were more of a gift than an inconvenience. I don't remember how we spent that extra time together, but I'll always remember that we did spend it together when practicality said I should have been elsewhere. Three cheers for the impractical.
A few Friday nights ago, I was changing Beckett's diaper for bed while telling Hamilton multiple times to stop swinging on the door. Then I heard a *click* followed by Hamilton's "It's locked." My heart stopped. You see, we have the door knob turned around to lock Hamilton in at night when he won't stay in bed (please don't judge...it took us awhile to get here), so when he said "It's locked," he meant it. Beckett, Hamilton, and I were trapped in their room, with no phone, and Alex was coming home late. The first few minutes were pretty ugly: my vain attempts to open the door through sheer force, my yelling at Hamilton: "You've trapped us! We're trapped in here! I'm so angry!!", along with some random room pacing to try and take the edge off. I even slammed a book down at one point. Like I said, it wasn't pretty, but I was thinking of the lovely empty house I was supposed to be enjoying: a post-gym shower, some light house cleaning, a little Project Runway, and so on. And now I was stuck in the nursery with boys that needed to be sleeping, and I, for once, didn't even feel tired.
After looking at Hamilton, who was sitting on the bed quietly watching me lose it, I thought, "Kate, pull yourself together. That's your little boy over there." So, I went over and hugged him while he told me, "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to trap you. I didn't want to make you angry." I tucked Beckett in (luckily he fell asleep without his pacifier) and got out a bunch of books to read to Hamilton. We read until the light woke up Beckett, whom I cuddled back to sleep after tucking Hamilton in. I finally got myself to fall asleep at some point, but unfortunately woke up before help had arrived. I had no clock, of course, so I had no idea what time it was...how much longer I'd be waiting. Things were feeling a little clausterphobic at this point, and my anger returned as I imagined Alex and his family laughing and celebrating together down in Irvine. My ears strained for the sound of Alex's car, and when it finally came, I can't describe the relief. Wanting to avoid waking up the boys, I knocked quietly on the door and whispered, "Alex!" until I heard, "Kate? What?" and said excitedly, "Get me out of here!"
Everyone tells me that your kids grow up faster than you can imagine. Toddlers running around the park and showing off for you one minute and then graduating from high school and breaking away from you the next. So, even though part of me is still sad to have had a rare quiet evening taken away, a bigger part is grateful to have been able to steal a few more hours of Toddler Hamilton and Baby Beckett while making a pretty funny memory.
