"I do my own stunts."
Monday, February 8, 2010
You've seen those T-shirts for little kids. The ones that say "I do my own stunts." I tease my friend KaraLee all the time that her son needs one. [Honest, I could see him in 20 years, playing the Jason Statham stunt double in Transporter 12. Not only is he a stealth Jedi-style warrior, he's got that blonde-hair-blue-eyes thing going on.]
Tonight, I earned my own T-shirt, and you can too, in just 10 easy steps.
Step 1: Humor your not-yet-potty-trained (actually, not-even-potty-trainING) two-year-old's request by letting him sit on the potty AGAIN as a stall tactic right before bedtime.
Step 2: Sit on the edge of the tub and put your head down because it has been a long, long day. Be extra sure NOT to pay attention to what your 5-year-old is up to. (This is absolutely critical.)
Step 3: Look up to see your 5-year-old, also in the tiny bathroom with you, grinning devilishly. Laugh a little because she looks so cute grinning that way. Enjoy this laugh. Soon you will not be laughing.
Step 4: Ask said grinner, "What are you up to?" so she can reply, "Try to get out." Respond: "Out of where?" so she can say "the bathroom." Reach for the door handle so you can see that she has locked ALL THREE OF YOU in the bathroom. [We flipped the door around years ago and never thought to flip the door knob.]
Step 5: Remember simultaneously that there is no one else home OR COMING HOME FOR A FEW DAYS and that you are extremely claustrophobic. [See what I mean about the laughing.] Also, realize that you do not have your phone and that you just spoke to your husband, who is out-of-town all week, so he's not going to be checking in on you until tomorrow. Wonder for a second if there would be any use to screaming. (The answer, by the way, is NO.)
Step 6. Twist, shake and yank the doorknob frantically until you realize that your small, impressionable children are staring at you and wondering why mommy is panicking. Five-year-old catches on that you are really locked in, and it's not funny. She begins to cry because, "it's all [her] fault." Bite your tongue to keep from saying, "#$#@$, yes it is!" since that will not help.
Step 7: Start sticking anything you can find into the little hole to try and 'pop' the lock. Realizing (1) that it's a kid's bathroom which is void of small, sharp objects, and (2) that it's not that kind of lock.
Step 8: After running through a myriad of other, nonviable, options, begin slamming your left shoulder into the door with all your weight (surely all this extra weight I'm carrying would come in handy sometime) as if you are the first wave of the FBI in a drug bust. Slam repeatedly as you worry how much oxygen there can possibly be in this small space.
Step 9: When left shoulder is sore, switch to the right shoulder and repeat. Good news: There are pieces of wood starting to splinter from the door frame. Bad news: Right shoulder is now sore also.
Step 10: Since you seem to be making progress, lean against the bathroom sink and give the door a few swift kicks until the door frame literally splits in half and the door gives way. Run out of there as if you've been trapped for days, gasping for air, only to realize it's been less than 20 minutes. [Feel a little embarrassed at your panic.]
I'm no expert, but I think we need a new door...
[Dear Mom & Dad: I may need an advance on my birthday money :) ]
Tonight, I earned my own T-shirt, and you can too, in just 10 easy steps.
Step 1: Humor your not-yet-potty-trained (actually, not-even-potty-trainING) two-year-old's request by letting him sit on the potty AGAIN as a stall tactic right before bedtime.
Step 2: Sit on the edge of the tub and put your head down because it has been a long, long day. Be extra sure NOT to pay attention to what your 5-year-old is up to. (This is absolutely critical.)
Step 3: Look up to see your 5-year-old, also in the tiny bathroom with you, grinning devilishly. Laugh a little because she looks so cute grinning that way. Enjoy this laugh. Soon you will not be laughing.
Step 4: Ask said grinner, "What are you up to?" so she can reply, "Try to get out." Respond: "Out of where?" so she can say "the bathroom." Reach for the door handle so you can see that she has locked ALL THREE OF YOU in the bathroom. [We flipped the door around years ago and never thought to flip the door knob.]
Step 5: Remember simultaneously that there is no one else home OR COMING HOME FOR A FEW DAYS and that you are extremely claustrophobic. [See what I mean about the laughing.] Also, realize that you do not have your phone and that you just spoke to your husband, who is out-of-town all week, so he's not going to be checking in on you until tomorrow. Wonder for a second if there would be any use to screaming. (The answer, by the way, is NO.)
Step 6. Twist, shake and yank the doorknob frantically until you realize that your small, impressionable children are staring at you and wondering why mommy is panicking. Five-year-old catches on that you are really locked in, and it's not funny. She begins to cry because, "it's all [her] fault." Bite your tongue to keep from saying, "#$#@$, yes it is!" since that will not help.
Step 7: Start sticking anything you can find into the little hole to try and 'pop' the lock. Realizing (1) that it's a kid's bathroom which is void of small, sharp objects, and (2) that it's not that kind of lock.
Step 8: After running through a myriad of other, nonviable, options, begin slamming your left shoulder into the door with all your weight (surely all this extra weight I'm carrying would come in handy sometime) as if you are the first wave of the FBI in a drug bust. Slam repeatedly as you worry how much oxygen there can possibly be in this small space.
Step 9: When left shoulder is sore, switch to the right shoulder and repeat. Good news: There are pieces of wood starting to splinter from the door frame. Bad news: Right shoulder is now sore also.
Step 10: Since you seem to be making progress, lean against the bathroom sink and give the door a few swift kicks until the door frame literally splits in half and the door gives way. Run out of there as if you've been trapped for days, gasping for air, only to realize it's been less than 20 minutes. [Feel a little embarrassed at your panic.]
I'm no expert, but I think we need a new door...
[Dear Mom & Dad: I may need an advance on my birthday money :) ]
9 comments:
Oh. My. Gosh. I was dying laughing (even though it's not funny-well, it is sort of. Okay, not really. But maybe just a little?). I think in addition to the door you'll need a new door frame. What did you say you went to school for? I didn't think it was law enforcement. Do you watch CSIs regularly? Looks like you got at that door like a pro with your foot!
Love the step-by-steps. And yeah, I like the Jason Statham comparison. Hadn't thought about a particular adult but the kid definitely has skills (& so does Jason Statham, aka Handsome Rob) :)
Let me know if you need Ryan to come help fix anything this week (or this weekend).
It's still (a little) funny!
I think you are going to be okay, well maybe not the shoulders but the it looks like just the door jam (or frame) is broken. Good news, its an easy fix for a handyman. Hire some guy cheap and he can do it in an hour.
Take care. Thanks for sharing a funny story.
Oh dear! Oh dear! I was laughing at first but then I wanted to cry. I could so picture this happening to me only I would have been the one who locked it. I'm so glad you got out--way to think on your feet or toilet or wherever you were! I hope Harrison gets better soon and your week goes well.
Holy. stinking. moly. I wanted to write something else there but figured it's a family blog and all (and I'm supposed to be a good Mormon).
Come play with us. Leave the kids. Never come back to get them (at least for a day or something).
I wouldn't have thought to kick the door down. I seriously wouldn't have. Your ranking as favorite person just jumped even higher above everyone else.
Okay, so I know this probably wasn't funny at the time, but it was so dang hilarious during the retelling. Too bad Alias isn't on t.v. anymore, you could be Jennifer Garner's stunt double. Personally, I'm just highly impressed you could actually take out the door-that is skill, my friend. Major skill. Seriously. I understand about the whole claustrophobia thing-I once nearly died of panic b/c I couldn't get out of the bathroom stall at ECU but then I figured out that you have to PUSH the door instead of PULL. Yeah, good thing my parents sent me to college to make me smart, eh? Anyway, one good thing to come of this, I'll bet said 5-yr. old won't be locking anymore doors. Let's just hope the incident hasn't left some unpleasant association with potty-training for the little one.......(No, I'm sure he'll be fine. Kids are remarkably resilient-even more so than adults.) Anyway, hilarious! (If the husband, being a man, has anything to say about the demolished door/doorframe-just lock him in the kitchen pantry for a while and see how he likes it! :) )
Funny story! Thanks for letting us all enjoy your lovely experience. I too had to learn the hard way about doorknobs that don't easily unlock from the other side. Although I was never locked in the room myself. Good luck with the repairs!
I want to know what explicative EXACTLY that you were thinking in that moment of, "@$#%$@#$, YES IT IS!" :) And yes, though I'm no expert either, I think you need a new door. It's about time you got that one changed around anyway, right?
That was great, I first read it over at mom's, your mom had printed it out and brought it with her. I was laughing out loud and it brought back some memories.......so THANKS!
Wow-there's a memory they soon won't forget. So stinking funny. For me. I would have freaked out too. Maybe you could have a swiss army knife on at all times or have a pick in your bra jik it ever happens again:)
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