My washer and dryer are in the basement. I like it this way; since I never get around to exercising, I value multiple trips up and down the stairs for the calorie-burning they provide. The garage is connected to the basement, and when you go up the stairs from the basement, you end up in the kitchen. The doorknob in the kitchen/basement steps door is quite finicky. (This is all pertinent information for the story, I promise.)
Monday afternoon, when it was pouring rain all day and I spent the day in my favorite bright red sweats, I did several loads of laundry. Typically, Levi either follows me downstairs (he's quite good at stairs), or continues to play at his little table in the kitchen. This is his table, purchased at a garage sale and then painted by my dad:
(It looks blue here, but it's actually purple. That's not pertinent to the story, but it seemed like a good opportunity to show off the table. Thanks, Dad!)
Lately, however, Levi has been really into closing doors, so I wasn't terribly surprised when, after I popped downstairs to take one load out of the dryer and move the next load over, the door clicked shut behind me. I performed the necessary tasks, grabbed the basket of dry laundry, bounded back up the stairs, grabbed the doorknob [you know where this is going, right?] . . . and nothing happened. Wouldn't turn in either direction (and usually only turns to the left, anyway).
Thinking that Levi had locked the door, I attempted to persuade him to "twist the little button on the handle." He wasn't upset until I started talking, though, and the more I talked, the more upset he became. Plan B: try a screwdriver in the hole on my side of the doorknob: no luck. Plan C: go out through the garage to see if we have a house key hidden under the doormat: no luck. Plan D: try to persuade Levi to unlock the door again: no luck.
Plan E: use a neighbor's phone to call Isaac and have him come home, quickly. The first three houses I tried were all empty, of course, being a weekday afternoon when everyone is at work. What a sight I must have been, in my red sweats and Isaac's snow boots, traipsing around the cul-de-sac in the pouring rain, frantically knocking on doors, shivering without a coat! Fortunately, I knew what Levi was doing this whole time, because in the garage, my car alarm kept going off and on: he'd emptied the diaper bag and was playing with my car keys. That red button is just more fun than all the others!
Too-long story belatedly wrapped up, I did find a neighbor at home, and Isaac was home 10 minutes later. The doorknob was not locked, but merely stuck, a problem that we probably won't have again after Isaac wrenched it open. Aside from the diaper-bag contents strewn about the kitchen floor, there was no harm done -- and I got the dry load of laundry folded while I was stuck in the basement.
Monday afternoon, when it was pouring rain all day and I spent the day in my favorite bright red sweats, I did several loads of laundry. Typically, Levi either follows me downstairs (he's quite good at stairs), or continues to play at his little table in the kitchen. This is his table, purchased at a garage sale and then painted by my dad:
(It looks blue here, but it's actually purple. That's not pertinent to the story, but it seemed like a good opportunity to show off the table. Thanks, Dad!)
Lately, however, Levi has been really into closing doors, so I wasn't terribly surprised when, after I popped downstairs to take one load out of the dryer and move the next load over, the door clicked shut behind me. I performed the necessary tasks, grabbed the basket of dry laundry, bounded back up the stairs, grabbed the doorknob [you know where this is going, right?] . . . and nothing happened. Wouldn't turn in either direction (and usually only turns to the left, anyway).
Thinking that Levi had locked the door, I attempted to persuade him to "twist the little button on the handle." He wasn't upset until I started talking, though, and the more I talked, the more upset he became. Plan B: try a screwdriver in the hole on my side of the doorknob: no luck. Plan C: go out through the garage to see if we have a house key hidden under the doormat: no luck. Plan D: try to persuade Levi to unlock the door again: no luck.
Plan E: use a neighbor's phone to call Isaac and have him come home, quickly. The first three houses I tried were all empty, of course, being a weekday afternoon when everyone is at work. What a sight I must have been, in my red sweats and Isaac's snow boots, traipsing around the cul-de-sac in the pouring rain, frantically knocking on doors, shivering without a coat! Fortunately, I knew what Levi was doing this whole time, because in the garage, my car alarm kept going off and on: he'd emptied the diaper bag and was playing with my car keys. That red button is just more fun than all the others!
Too-long story belatedly wrapped up, I did find a neighbor at home, and Isaac was home 10 minutes later. The doorknob was not locked, but merely stuck, a problem that we probably won't have again after Isaac wrenched it open. Aside from the diaper-bag contents strewn about the kitchen floor, there was no harm done -- and I got the dry load of laundry folded while I was stuck in the basement.
I can see the joy on Levi's face while he's pressing the red button on your car keys. Your laundry mishap made his day! And, thanks to you, I guess I will stop complaining about going up and down stairs to do laundry. I will be thankful for the exercise!
ReplyDeleteOh so funny! I too climb stairs all day and have a basement laundry. I have always been paranoid that this would happen : )
ReplyDelete