Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Imprisoned in my own house

Sounds kinda scary, but I was imprisoned by a toddler. No, it wasn't one of these where I got locked out of my house. I was actually inside my house when the whole thing happened.

For whatever reason, the previous home owners had a chain link on the bottom of the door. We don't have a key to it, so we don't use it. Mammita plays with it and it always manages to slide back, but for whatever reason, it didn't. So when Mammita's dad came to pick her up I had to figure out how to get out of my own house.

This whole production involved three screw drivers and a hammer. The screws and the plate had been painted in and the screws were so old that one of them had a worn head (most of them were a bit worn) and was screwed in wrong so I ended up pulling that one out with a hammer. It was a bit frustrating, but is also sorta funny.

Now we look very ghetto with a chain lock hanging at the bottom of the door. Mammita's dad suggested renting bolt cutters. I'm leaving this one up to Hubby. Maintenance falls under his job description. (We divided up jobs when we were first married. I am correspondence. Hubby is maintenance.)


  1. Oh, it gets better. After I put the baby to bed, I come downstairs to Hubby holding the plate. "It wasn't hard. Just slid off." is what he said to me.

    What!? I took a hammer to that thing to see if loosening it would make it slide. I wonder if the temp change has anything to do with it. It was hot this afternoon and this morning and night it was cooler.

    But I'm still baffled all the same. I think somebody didn't want me to get out of my house.


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