Thursday, 27 October 2011

On the wrong side of the door

George's friend Noah came to visit the other day with his baby brother – and his mummy, of course – and when it was time to go home we all walked out to the car to see them off.

George must have been feeling extra friendly because he was quite happy to give Noah a kiss goodbye – there will come a time when this will be discouraged – and Noah was quite happy about it too.

Moments later the car has been loaded with bags and children and all the associated paraphernalia. Noah's mum walks round to get in the driver's side and we turn to walk back up the garden path to see George race ahead of us, run in the house and slam the front door shut.

Aaaagh! He is now alone inside the house with me and mummy locked out – all keys and phones firmly indoors. Worse still, we know that George cannot open the door from the inside – he can reach the handle and pull it down so that it is unlatched but hasn't got the strength to pull the door open (it's quite heavy and makes a suction noise when you open it).

Noah's mum watches the panic ensue from her open car door and the only thing we can think of is to borrow her mobile and call a grandparent (both sets of which have a spare key to our house).

Fortunately, I could see George through the door window and after a couple of seconds of encouragement manage to get him to pull the handle down – and it's first time lucky – as soon as I think he's pulled the handle down and unlatched the door, I give a little push and we're back in.

Panic over.

It was a bit of a lucky escape – I dread to think what might have happened if we had had to wait for Nannie, Nanna, Grandad or Grandad... and it would have been even more unthinkable if we hadn't been able to contact them. We would probably have had to call the fire brigade, and in George's eyes that kind of excitement is pure encouragement.

At least it wasn't raining.

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