So far, it had been a pretty good Saturday. I no longer had any signs of the stomach bug that had kept me up all Thursday night throwing up and rendered me mostly useless Friday while Kevin was in New York. Jim seemed to be mostly over his cold. We were able to find everything we wanted at Aldi for the first time in a few weeks, finished the laundry in a timely manner, and got some good naps in for most of us. Now it was about 3 o' clock, and we had the rest of the day planned: go to a nearby splash pad for a little while, take baths, eat dinner, and then go on a tour to see and play the Yale carillon.
We all piled into the car and headed to the closest splash pad. The parking lot was full, and there were tons of people on the field and the playground, but the splash pad was off.
"That's weird," we thought. The sign had said it was open beginning Memorial Day, and this hot, sunny day seemed like a really good day to have it on, but no luck. Oh well. We knew of other splash pads within a 5 minute drive, so we decided to check them both out. Nope and nope. I figured that the splash pads at beaches would work, but they were relatively far away and our schedule was tight enough that we just headed home. Jim was severely disappointed, but he felt better when I said we would have Otter Pops. As soon as we got in I pulled some out of the freezer and sent the boys outside with Kevin to eat them.
Meanwhile, I looked up when splash pads were supposed to open. There was nothing definitive for this year, but in years past there had been articles about them being open in early June. While I was reading, John came back in needing some help with his Otter Pop. Once it was all gone and the sticky spots were mopped up, I went outside to tell Kevin about what I had read, closing the screen door behind me. I figured John would follow soon, and sure enough within a minute he headed toward the door. But instead of coming out of it he pushed a little button on the screen door I had never paid attention to until earlier this week.
That was the day that Jim had asked what the button was for, and I told him it locked the screen door. "Maybe we should lock that one at night, too!" he suggested. I told him that locking the main door was good enough. We never needed to lock the screen door.
But now, we certainly needed to unlock the screen door.
"More chips!" John demanded, indicating what he had found during the minute I had left him alone in the house.
"Can you unlock it please?" I asked. He responded by singing various parts of "Let's go fly a kite" and wandering off until I got him to come back.
"Do you want to unlock the door just like Jim does?" I asked. He grinned and said "Maybe," then tried pushing the doorknob of the screen door. When that was unsuccessful, he began to demand more chips again.
Then it was Kevin's turn. "Can you try twisting the lock?" he asked. John responded by pushing on the lock, demanding that we open it. I ran to the back door to see if maybe it was somehow unlocked, knowing full well I had just locked it 5 minutes earlier for some inscrutable reason. I came back to the front door with a sigh.
"Well," said Kevin, "I guess we have to call the landlord." He pulled out his phone that he had put in his pocket 5 minutes earlier (apparently he had heeded the promptings of the Holy Ghost the same time I had heeded the promptings of Satan) and gave her a call. She said she would come right over. Now we just needed to spend the next 20 minutes keeping John alive without being able to access him.
John wandered over to the kitchen again to find more chips. I rushed to the back door so I could keep an eye on him while he was there. I knocked and rang the doorbell until he noticed me. There was a small gap in the blinds on the door where he could see me, and I again tried to get him to unlock the door. He insisted that I open the door, and I responded by showing him a YouTube video of someone unlocking a door from the inside.
He got bored quickly and tried to drag a chair over to the pantry to reach the chips. It got a little stuck between the dining room and kitchen, and I began to worry that if he pulled hard enough the chair would land on him. So I got his attention again by turning on a YouTube clip of "Let's Go Fly a Kite." He hurried back to the door to watch it, staring through the cracks in the blinds with expectant eyes as the song played. When it finished the second time, he got upset again so I pulled up "You're Welcome" from Moana. Again, he was happy to just stand there and watch. The phone automatically switched to "Shiny," but before it began there was an ad. "Not this one!" he wailed as I pressed "Skip ad" as quickly as I could. Halfway through the song, our landlord showed up. As I paused the song to say hi to her, John again got upset about his show being interrupted.
"Has he been crying long?" she asked as she handed me the keys.
"Just a few seconds," I said. I unlocked the door and picked him up. Now that we were reunited, John seemed to understand better that he had been separated from the rest of the family and cried even harder once I was holding him. Luckily, he calmed down quickly enough to even smile at the landlord as we thanked her profusely for coming, and then we all headed inside to start baths and disable the locks on the screen doors.
Come to think of it, he never did get more chips.
We all piled into the car and headed to the closest splash pad. The parking lot was full, and there were tons of people on the field and the playground, but the splash pad was off.
"That's weird," we thought. The sign had said it was open beginning Memorial Day, and this hot, sunny day seemed like a really good day to have it on, but no luck. Oh well. We knew of other splash pads within a 5 minute drive, so we decided to check them both out. Nope and nope. I figured that the splash pads at beaches would work, but they were relatively far away and our schedule was tight enough that we just headed home. Jim was severely disappointed, but he felt better when I said we would have Otter Pops. As soon as we got in I pulled some out of the freezer and sent the boys outside with Kevin to eat them.
Meanwhile, I looked up when splash pads were supposed to open. There was nothing definitive for this year, but in years past there had been articles about them being open in early June. While I was reading, John came back in needing some help with his Otter Pop. Once it was all gone and the sticky spots were mopped up, I went outside to tell Kevin about what I had read, closing the screen door behind me. I figured John would follow soon, and sure enough within a minute he headed toward the door. But instead of coming out of it he pushed a little button on the screen door I had never paid attention to until earlier this week.
That was the day that Jim had asked what the button was for, and I told him it locked the screen door. "Maybe we should lock that one at night, too!" he suggested. I told him that locking the main door was good enough. We never needed to lock the screen door.
But now, we certainly needed to unlock the screen door.
"More chips!" John demanded, indicating what he had found during the minute I had left him alone in the house.
"Can you unlock it please?" I asked. He responded by singing various parts of "Let's go fly a kite" and wandering off until I got him to come back.
"Do you want to unlock the door just like Jim does?" I asked. He grinned and said "Maybe," then tried pushing the doorknob of the screen door. When that was unsuccessful, he began to demand more chips again.
Then it was Kevin's turn. "Can you try twisting the lock?" he asked. John responded by pushing on the lock, demanding that we open it. I ran to the back door to see if maybe it was somehow unlocked, knowing full well I had just locked it 5 minutes earlier for some inscrutable reason. I came back to the front door with a sigh.
"Well," said Kevin, "I guess we have to call the landlord." He pulled out his phone that he had put in his pocket 5 minutes earlier (apparently he had heeded the promptings of the Holy Ghost the same time I had heeded the promptings of Satan) and gave her a call. She said she would come right over. Now we just needed to spend the next 20 minutes keeping John alive without being able to access him.
John wandered over to the kitchen again to find more chips. I rushed to the back door so I could keep an eye on him while he was there. I knocked and rang the doorbell until he noticed me. There was a small gap in the blinds on the door where he could see me, and I again tried to get him to unlock the door. He insisted that I open the door, and I responded by showing him a YouTube video of someone unlocking a door from the inside.
He got bored quickly and tried to drag a chair over to the pantry to reach the chips. It got a little stuck between the dining room and kitchen, and I began to worry that if he pulled hard enough the chair would land on him. So I got his attention again by turning on a YouTube clip of "Let's Go Fly a Kite." He hurried back to the door to watch it, staring through the cracks in the blinds with expectant eyes as the song played. When it finished the second time, he got upset again so I pulled up "You're Welcome" from Moana. Again, he was happy to just stand there and watch. The phone automatically switched to "Shiny," but before it began there was an ad. "Not this one!" he wailed as I pressed "Skip ad" as quickly as I could. Halfway through the song, our landlord showed up. As I paused the song to say hi to her, John again got upset about his show being interrupted.
"Has he been crying long?" she asked as she handed me the keys.
"Just a few seconds," I said. I unlocked the door and picked him up. Now that we were reunited, John seemed to understand better that he had been separated from the rest of the family and cried even harder once I was holding him. Luckily, he calmed down quickly enough to even smile at the landlord as we thanked her profusely for coming, and then we all headed inside to start baths and disable the locks on the screen doors.
Come to think of it, he never did get more chips.
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