I broke into my own house.

24 Jun

It’s a Friday. Things were pretty slow at work (when are they not?) so I headed home at 4. I was anticipating a delicious nap in air-conditioning while the dogs were roaming outside so they wouldn’t wake me up. I was feeling pretty good about my mad traffic navigation skills, too, as I was able to avoid practically all of the jams I saw on my way home (side roads are where it’s at).

I went through my usual routine of parking my car in the driveway, opening the garage door with the remote, and grabbing all of my crap to carry in. But when I reached the door to the laundry room, the knob didn’t turn. Thinking it was just stuck, I jiggled it a few more times. Nope, it was locked. That had happened to me one other time. Since it’s the kind of doorknob that you turn the notch to lock (see pic), sometimes the notch gets turned just a little bit every time you use it until bam, the door is locked.

No problem, I thought. I’ll just go through the front door. Well, unfortunately the recent re-addition of our screened door put the kaibosh on that. It was locked as well. No key for that door.


While the dogs were whining and pawing at the door to get out, I called Travis and told him the predicament. He suggested I take the pins out of the hinges of the door.

Good idea!

I was able to get the pins out fairly easily but then the dilemma was, how do you pull a door off that is still locked? Those skills were beyond me. So I got out the cordless drill and removed my side of the doorknob. When I couldn’t figure out how to get the door unlocked even then, I remembered my friend Carrie’s story about a friend’s little boy locking himself and his playmates into her daughter’s room. Apparently, he only knew how to lock it but not unlock, so she also resorted to removing the doorknob. I remembered her saying that didn’t work, but I couldn’t remember what actually did work. (Maybe she coached them through how to unlock? Do you think that would work with my dogs?)

While I was standing there jiggling the knob, I could feel the cool breeze blowing from the laundry room into the hot, sticky garage. Taunting me.

Finally I gave up on that door. It was of no use. Maybe there’s a window open!

Indeed there was. And luckily, it was my bathroom window, which had yet to be replaced with the new kind with screens designed to only come out from inside. Instead, the screens were homemade (we think) and held in place by some plastic clips that you turn to remove (see pic).

Between a nail and a putty knife, I was able to turn the plastic clips enough to push the screen out and into the bathtub.

Then I got out the ladder. Carefully straddling it over one of our beautiful shrubs, I climbed up.

Now, as you can see, our windows are pretty high up and fairly small. Good thing I don’t weigh 200 lbs or I would’ve been cooking in the hot sun until Travis got home from happy hour.

So the question was, Should I go in head first or feet first?

I decided feet first would be the safest route so I lifted my left leg into the window and straddled the sill. I stared down at the hard, porcelain bathtub. Whatever you do, don’t get hurt.

I kicked off my flipflop so I could better grip the side ledge of the bathtub. Now, how to get my right leg inside too? I pushed aside the shower curtain and leaned down onto the toilet tank. Holding on to the window frame, I was able to wrestle my right leg in too.

Whew! I’m inside.

Time for a nap.

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