Remember when Gavin was two, and I shared every one of his nefarious deeds in rich detail? Now we have another two-year-old in the house, and while her escapades don't always rival those of her brother, she is plenty mischievous. What she lacks in life-threatening action she makes up for in sass and drama. Lexi is SUCH a two-year-old right now. Most days I'm just too tired to re-live her antics in print. Now, during a 4:30 bout of insomnia, I feel compelled to record one episode.
Miss Lexi was mad at me (nearly a perpetual state these days) for not giving her enough attention during Kate's morning nap. It was true. I was racing the clock to finish my blog book before the January 31 coupon deadline. The usual activities that engage her interest weren't working. We tried play dough, water color painting, dolls, snacks, and a TV show. She sat in my lap. She played with my hair. She took off my shoes. Finally, after more than an hour of poking my face and the computer keys, she agreed to watch one TV show so I could finish up.
Within a few minutes, I was done and she was bored with TV. She wanted me to fix her hair, and I readily agreed. I asked her to fetch the rubber bands and spray bottle from my bathroom. That's when I discovered that she had locked my bedroom door. Lexi just shrugged her shoulders and walked away. I tried to find a key.
The bedroom door knobs have locking buttons that turn, rather than those that pop in and out. Unlocking them requires a small tool about three inches long with a flat end. When we moved in 3 1/2 years ago, only one existed in the house. Of course that disappeared long ago. We have resorted to using tiny flat-head screwdrivers to unlock doors. On this day, every screwdriver of that nature was missing. I tried half a dozen different implements to unlock the door. No luck.
Being denied access to my bedroom posed one significant problem for me: clothing. I had run on the treadmill that morning and taken a shower. I had fixed my hair and applied make-up, but I had only gotten half-way dressed. I put on a regular shirt (dark orange), but instead of putting on jeans for going out, I wore turquoise-and-purple plaid pajama pants. Yes, I know the colors clash. But it was laundry day, and my more subdued pajamas were in the wash. And I wasn't going anywhere. Jeans are for going out ONLY. So I laid them on my bed, where I could easily put them on before preschool pick-up.
Well, the morning passed and I still couldn't find a key. I was also managing lots of other things--phone calls, a friend in distress, a fussy baby, Lexi's perpetual tantrums and clothing changes, housework, etc.--and, my memory being what it is, I forgot about the door for a while. Quite suddenly it was 11:10, and I was still locked out of my bedroom and wearing a ridiculous outfit. I didn't have a choice, so I went to pick up Gavin.
I wore a coat, so the general public probably thought I just didn't bother getting out of my pajamas this morning. I'm not on a first-name basis with anyone at the school, so I just walked in and out of there like nothing was wrong. Of course, Lexi was screaming the entire time about some injustice in her life, so hopefully fellow parents and their children were distracted enough by the spectacle to ignore my attire.
During the girls' afternoon nap, I had to leave again. I hired a babysitter (to whom I explained my outfit) so I could take a friend to the doctor. Happily, this time I didn't have to leave the van; my obligation was to provide a ride only. My friend chuckled at my predicament. I decided to email the Relief Society with my story to see if anyone had a key that would work in my door. As the day dragged on, I began to worry I wouldn't be able to sleep in my bed that night without breaking a window. Someone offered a key, which I picked up after school. It worked, and I put on my jeans...just in case.
It wasn't until about 7:30 p.m. that I discovered the reason Lexi locked my bedroom door. When I began preparing for bed (yes, at that hour; it had been SUCH a day), I found a thick layer of granola bar crumbs all over my sheets and pillow. Apparently Lexi had raided the pantry for a snack before settling down for a TV show. Knowing she would get in trouble for eating in my bed, she locked up the evidence of her crimes.
It's a good thing she was asleep when I discovered the mess. Maybe to get revenge I'll lock myself in my bedroom tomorrow.