We have an old lock on our front door. So old in fact that finding a locksmith that carries our particular key has been difficult. As such we have a limited number of keys to open the front door. The kids share one of them, however, the doll is responsible for carrying the key as the boy tends to “forget” the key at home. Two days a week, the kids let themselves into the house, unless they forget the key. In the last month this has happened three times.
The first time, I received a call from the school secretary informing me the kids were wondering where they should go. “Tell them to walk back home and see if their father has arrived yet; but if not, they can wait at their Grandfather’s” who conveniently lives across the street from their school. The second time my neighbor Kristen took pity on my children and invited the kids into her home to wait until one of their parents arrived home from work. Kristen’s oldest and the doll attend school together and the boy has always been quite friendly with the family.
Then began the era of the boy. The doll arrived home first and took the dog into the back yard. In the meantime, the boy arrived home and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he ventured to the back yard to see if the doll had perhaps let the dog out. As he rounded the corner gate, the doll and dog re-entered the house. Seeing no one in the yard, he came back out front; wondering what he should do. He ventured over to the Kristen’s house and explained his sister had the key and she wasn’t home. As Kristen tells me, “I think he followed his nose. I never make snickerdoodle cookies ever…but on this day, I decided to make some. The boy came in, drank several glasses of milk and went to town on the cookies.” Mommy embarrassment level 5. “Do I owe you any money for the amount he drank and ate?” I offered. “No, he was fine, plus we don’t drink a lot of milk in our house, so we didn’t have to worry about throwing any out that week.” Kristen assured.
“The funny part was when I asked him where his sister could be…’Does she have girl scouts? Could she be at the library?’ among many other possibilities that would explain her absence. He didn’t seem to care or worry” Kristen said. “Why would he, he was eating cookies…” I replied with a laugh. The doll meanwhile began to worry where her brother had gotten to and decided to take the dog for a walk, to look for him. That’s when Kristen spotted the doll and sent the boy home.
On Tuesday when I arrived home from work the boy, seated at the kitchen table doing his homework (surprise!) looked up at me and said “Guess what mom?” “What?” I replied. “I broke into the house today…” I stopped and gave him a scrutinizing look and replied, “What?” The doll entered the kitchen and sat down. Evidently she wanted to ensure the boy’s story was properly told. “Well, when I came home I did the customary knocks on our front door but no one answered. Looking over at the doll she smiled and said, “I had to go to the bathroom.” “So I walked to the back of the house and tried to figure out a way to get into the house. I was able to maneuver the old basketball pole over to my bedroom window so I could stand as tall as the window.” He explained. Again I looked over at the doll who interjected, “When I got off the toilet, I went to the front door and again the boy wasn’t there. That’s when I heard him knocking on his bedroom window.”
“And?” I asked as both kids paused and smiled at one another.
“Well, I was able to lift the screen on the window, and began to knock. With the doll’s help, I was able to open the window…” “I lifted the window to ask him what he wanted…” the doll explained. “That’s when I climbed through the window into my bedroom, thus breaking into the house.” the boy said with a triumphant smile spread across his face. Looking back toward the doll I asked, what I thought was a reasonable question, “Why didn’t you just tell your brother to go to the backdoor and you would let him in?” Shrugging her shoulders she said, “I don’t know…he was just insistent on entering the house through the window I never thought about it”. Looking back at the boy, who was still sporting his grin, I asked, “Did you at least close and lock the window back down to deter would be thieves from trying the same thing?” His grin disappeared in a heartbeat as he removed himself from the table and ran back to his bedroom window.
Later I asked him again, “Why didn’t you just have your sister open the back door?” “I wish I had Mom, climbing in the window was painful…” “Painfully fun?” I retorted. Lowering his head he stuttered to get the right explanation out of his mouth, before he looked back at me and smiled. “Well now that you’ve successfully broken into our house, I don’t think you have to do so anytime soon right?”
Smiling back, he agreed “Right”.