We’ve had two major key incidents recently. Both of them involved actual keys. And a toddler. The first incident took place a few weeks ago and showed us how our eldest baby has grown up into an independent and very determined little girl all of sudden. The second incident still causes me to break out into cold sweats and who knows what I would have done, if that same determined little person didn’t keep her cool that day.
Saturday morning, few weeks ago. I was upstairs with Ava, trying to settle her for her morning nap. We were after a bad spell of illnesses and Ava’s usual laid-back approach to nap time was completely messed up. Feeding and rocking was the only way to get her to fall asleep. Denis was tidying up downstairs, while Mia was doing her own thing. As Denis went outside to empty the bin, the front door banged shut. He started calling for me, but I had Ava nearly asleep, so there was no way I was willing to run downstairs. He could wait a while. But Denis wasn’t so patient. And Mia was still downstairs. On her own. So he convinced her to rescue daddy. My toddler is not even two and half years old, but she looked her daddy straight into the eyes (through the letterbox), took his orders and within five minutes she had him inside the house again. How? Daddy told her to get the key. She knew exactly where to look for it (in a ‘secret’ place in the kitchen). So she ran in there, but came back within a few seconds telling daddy she couldn’t reach. Daddy then told her to get a chair to stand on (if social services ever find out, they’ll probably send someone to our house). So she dragged her little IKEA recliner seat all the way from the front room into the kitchen, placed it under the ‘secret place’, took the key, shouted at her dad ‘I DID IT’ and swiftly posted the key through the letterbox out to daddy. I’m not exaggerating, it took her less than five minutes, no giggling or messing about, just cool-headed fast thinking to get her dad back in.
I must say Denis and myself were beaming with proudness. I think we’ve a little rescuer in our hands.
The setting for the second incident was pretty similar. I was again trying to put Ava down for her morning sleep. But this time things could have ended slightly more messy. Because I was on my own with the girls. No daddy around. As I was in the bedroom, Mia was playing with her dolls. She put two of them in the moses basket in the bedroom I was in, kissed them goodnight and walked out. While I was still in the room. With Ava. Bye Bye she shouted before she closed the door…and…turned the key!!!From the outside. She locked me in. With her sister. And her dollies. But no phone, because I left it downstairs on the kitchen table. I can pretend I kept my cool, but I think I nearly started hyperventilating. There is honestly not one single door in our (rented) house that we can trust. None of them closes properly, all the locks are dodgy and the keys don’t turn easily. It was sort of a wonder that Mia managed to turn the key in the first place, turning it back the other way would be short of a miracle. I feared. And to add to the panic, just at that time she felt the urge to go for a wee (we’re potty training her – but that’s another story all together). So she started shouting for me and I had to tell her I couldn’t get out to help her. As calmly as I possibly could and against all hope, I demanded Mia to turn the key again.To the other side. And she did. And the door was open again. I don’t think I ever ever felt so relieved. And I couldn’t give a penny that the carpet on the landing was soaked in wee.
Two key incidents. With a happy ending. But the key of the bedroom door is safely locked away!