I was somewhat excited to receive a phone call this morning informing me that the long awaited running hot water to my kitchen sink and the moving of my telephone point to a downstairs location would be taken care of today. Sad that I should get excited over such a thing, I know, but that is about as good as it gets in my life.
Unfortunately, when the workmen arrived, I was upstairs making the place presentable. My eleven year old daughter called up to ask whether she should let them in, to which I replied, “No. Just tell them I’ll be there in a minute.”
Why do children never listen?
By the time I got to the door, my daughter was busy fiddling with my, admittedly too large, bunch of keys and complaining that she couldn’t get the thing unlocked. On closer inspection, I discovered that there was a very good reason for this. She was trying to unlock it with the wrong key. No problem, thought I, I will remove the key and use the correct one.
You’ve guessed it. The fact that the key did not fit had not prevented my daughter from getting it firmly into the lock, from which it refused to budge. As the realisation dawned that the only other ways out of the house were through the window or over the (not insignificant) back wall, letting anybody in began to seem like the least important thing in the world, particularly as I had managed to park the car too close to the window to be able to open it.
Eventually, I managed to extract the key, unlock and open the door to two cold but highly amused young workmen.
Some very important lessons learned: unlock the door every morning, don’t park the car too close to the house and, most importantly, always tell my daughter to do the exact opposite of what I actually want her to do.