Want to hear a story?

Ready?
Well, the darling son, the one who I was so proud of this morning, the one who poured salt on my floor later this morning, the one I love so much, officially almost gave his momma a heart attack.
There is a door in our kitchen that leads to the laundry room/garage. I usually keep the door locked, even though the door in the laundry room that leads outside has a dead bolt. Nathan sees me unlocking and locking that door all the time. This morning, Nathan knew I was headed to that door, and he tried to unlock the door but was unsuccessful. I noticed that he was actually using the lock and not just trying to open the door by yanking on the doorknob. I opened the door, started some laundry while he watched, and fed the dogs out the back door. Pretty normal day.
After lunch I went back out to the laundry room to switch the clothes. Just as I was about to come back into the house, Nathan closed the door. I didn't think much about it until I grabbed the doorknob. It was locked. Sometimes the door doesn't click and will open even when locked, but not today. I banged and twisted and pushed, but the door wouldn't budge. I asked Nathan to unlock the door. He tried then started saying, "Momma, I need help." My first reaction was to laugh. I mean, how insane can you get?
I went out the back door and ran to my neighbor's house; she wasn't home. I went to another neighbor's house; they weren't home. I ran down the road to a retired couple's home; they weren't home. Panic was beginning to set in. I went to the new neighbor's home. He was home. I hurriedly told him that I needed his phone because my 2-year-old had locked himself in the house (yes, I get the "Best Mom on the Block" award, right?). He invited me in, introduced himself, introduced his two dogs, and said that he had moved there from Alaska. I'm sure I was looking at him quite blankly, but I managed a "Nice to meet you. I just need your phone really quickly." He handed me his phone and proceeded to ask if I was the neighbor with the motorcycle. Um, my brother has one? Maybe he saw him. Evan didn't answer the first time, so I called again. Evan answered and said he would come immediately. I told the man thank you (I do not remember his name) and said that I needed to get home to try to keep an eye on Nathan. He had gone to his room and was trying to show me his Harley Davidson leather jacket. I think I said something like, "I'm sure my brother would love that. Thank you, I've got to get home." (I think I could win the nicest neighbor award right about now, as well).
I ran home and knocked on my front door since it has a window. Nathan came to the door, grinned, and asked if Hannah was here. Nope, just Mom. He said something about unlocking the door. I ran around back and checked the door, but it was still locked. I could hear him trying to open it and asking me to help. ha I ran back around to the front and knocked on the door again. This time he came to the door with my pin cushion. I said, "Nathan Daniel, you better go put that away right now or Mommy is going to spank you." He went and put the pin cushion away, and I rang the doorbell to remind him that I was still there. He came back without the pin cushion. :-)
I told him to go get his blanket and bring it to the front door; I figured he would get into less if he had his blanket. ha He brought it to the front door, and I started telling him stories. He found a bug and killed it, but then he wanted to show it to Mommy. He started saying that he wanted outside. I told him that he needed to unlock the door first. He first just pulled on the doorknob (our front door only has a deadbolt); then he finally reached up and started messing with the lock. AND, he unlocked it. I called Evan, and he went back to work. Of course, now we have to think about the fact that our two-year-old son can lock and unlock our doors.
After it was over, I let Nathan play outside for a few minutes while I sat and let my stomach try to calm down and my body cool down (I was sweating, well, like a pig I guess). Nathan is sleeping now, and I'm trying to figure out if I have any energy left to do the last bit of cleaning before my aunt and uncle get here...
Whoa, this was a long post. Hmmm, I think blogging is definitely a stress outlet for me. ha