Locked out of my own house by an 8 month old

Ok….

So Brad was sleeping in this morning, and I was with Claire getting her ready and trying to get out the door. I had baby food to put in the car, my lunch, laptop, and other assorted goodies that are too much to carry with a baby. I put Claire on her pallet, told Diesel to watch her, and took my stuff out to the garage. About 60 second later I hear Claire talking on the other side of the door. I figure she’s come into the dining room to look for me. I slowly open the door and feel her pushing against it. She has climbed up the door. I can’t just knock her down! So I wait and I feel her plop down. She is way over next to the door jam, so I can’t reach her – the door is only opening about 4-6 inches. He is happily gnawing on a wrapping paper tube lying against the door. If I just push, her little skin will roll under the door, so I’m stuck.

I look through the door and I’l yelling, “Diesel get your blallbee! (what we call his tennis ball)” She will crawl over hot coals to get his nasty tennis balls she isn’t allowed to have. He starts bouncing and barking – a Lassie he is not. I’m trying to coax Claire closer so I can drag her out of the way, but she is happy (for the first time ever!) with her cardboard tube. After about 5 minutes of this, I decide I’ll have to get my cell out of the car and call Brad to come downstairs. Finally! Keeping my phone in the car is a plus! I call the house….no answer. Call again…no answer. He is a light sleeper, so I know he can hear it, he just doesn’t want to answer it. Worst case, I’m thinking, I’ll stand on the hood of my car, it the ceiling of the garage with the old mop and yell for him. The bedroom is right above the garage.

But I remember, with all the stuff I took out to my car, I threw the keys in the front seat. I recently got a front door key after not having one for years. So I was able to raise the garage, go around front (with no shoes in the cold!) and go through the front door.

When I got in to the hallway, Claire and Deez were looking at me as if saying, “What did we do?”