Wednesday, June 28, 2006

I should have named my son Harry

Because he's quite the escape artist.

I was out of the house for a couple of hours this morning, and my husband was at home with the kids. Now, our boy Nigel (22 months old) is quite a handful. He's a really fun kid, but he can also scale any wall ond open any door. So we've got baby gates and door locks all over the place. (It's like running the 25-meter hurdles to answer the phone, not to mention the locks on the medicine cabinets, drawers, oven, refrigerator, the list goes on and on.)

So, back to today's story. Daddy's playing with Nora, and all-of-a-sudden he realized that Nigel was absent. So he starts calling for him. No answer. So he looks upstairs. Looking all around, in our closet, the bathroom, etc. Still no Nigel. He eventually goes outside to find our "little" boy, bare feet, and still in jammies walking down the alley towards State Route 24, Half a block from the highway!


Daddy ran full tilt, and caught the little Houdini and brought him back in.

Turns out, he walked from the living room, climbed over the gate into my office, then through that door to our back door, unlocked that door, and then pushed open the screen door. He figured it was a nice day for a walk. Apparently also a good day to give his father a heart attack.

I hate keeping ourselves locked inside so securely that family and friends cannot just stop by, but we obviously have no choice. So if you want to come over, give me a call first, so I can be ready let you in.

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