Don’t put away those child locks yet.

 

This weekend we woke up to Meghan hovering over our bed.

“Seanie’s outside.”

“What do you mean Sean’s outside?”

“He’s outside.”

“Outside where?!?”

Uh-huh.  That’s right.  OUTSIDE.

I ran to the front door and found him standing outside, looking in, crying.  He did get himself dressed first, sort of.  He was wearing his underwear, a T-shirt that he put on backwards and his Diego Crocs.

We have no idea how long he was out there.  Or if he ventured off the front steps.  And our front door?  It was bolted and it’s super heavy but, apparently not too heavy for our little Bamm-Bamm.

Today we have a child lock on every possible exit.  Hopefully we won’t need to add Houdini to his list of titles.