It was one of those situations straight out of a sitcom.
Here I am, sick (again) and trying to get some stuff done around the house. I go downstairs to put the baby’s clothes into the wash, just really quick, closing the basement door behind me so she can’t fall down the stairs. This is nothing new. I’ve done it so many times before. Our basement door, by the way, has one of those old fashioned turn-knob locks to secure the door.
As I’m coming back from the laundry room, I hear a tell-tale squeak. Just the doorknob, I thought. She’s probably just playing with the doorknob. That’s nothing new, too. There’s no way she could–
By this point, I’d reached the basement door and attempted to open it. It didn’t budge.
So, there I am: trapped in my own basement. Oh, how I suddenly wished I had a high level rogue handy, or maybe a blacksmith to forge an emergency key! I looked around for something to help me get out of my situation. Perhaps I could MacGuyver my way out of this mess! You’re probably thinking, “If she was able to turn the lock one way, she should be able to turn it the other.”
You would think that. That would make logical sense. But allow me to remind you that my daughter is just a little over two, which means that she’ll do everything the opposite of what you ask of her. Tell her not to touch the door, for example, and she’ll gladly do it; tell her to grab her sippy cup from the table, however, and she’ll pretend she hasn’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.
I sat down on the steps and thought, in this order:
– Really? Seriously, God… Did that really just happen? I’m getting pranked, aren’t I?
– What would Sam Carter do? Create some sort of contraption from the various electronics’ scraps in our basement to rig the door open.
– What would FemShep do? Blast the door open with her weapons and/or biotics.
– What would Jaina do? Teleport. Duh.
– What would Chell do? Use the portal gun to get out. Equally duh.
-What would Kerrigan do? Order a crapload of zerglings to swarm the door.
I was, unfortunately and genuinely, S.O.L. and fresh out of weapons, viable electronics, and arcane magic. Luck was, partially, on my side, however. My parents-in-law have a key to our house. I called them to see if they were home: busy signal. This went on for a good fifteen minutes.
Meanwhile, I heard my daughter playing in the computer room, which is in clear sight of the basement door. For once, my husband leaving various eating implements around the house was useful. I grabbed a forlorn spoon sitting near the couch and slid it under the door, craning my neck to get a good view. I saw the Whelpling sitting by herself, now staring at the impossible spoon sticking out from under the basement door.
It freaked her out.
Frankly, it would freak me out, too, but that’s because I’ve watched one too many scary movies.
I finally got a hold of my parents-in-law, who got a good laugh out of the situation. And, honestly, how could you not laugh? My father-in-law was over in ten minutes, to which my daughter greeted with tears and giggles of joy. Basement door unlocked, I get out, and everyone lives happily ever after.
So now, for the years to come, I can regale people about the time my daughter locked me in the basement. From now on, however, I’m taking my keys with me… Just in case I have to leave via the basement’s back door and come back around through the front door. And while I’ve never joked about throwing my kid into the basement, this guarantees that I’ll never start.
What a day.