Tonight, Christine called me on her way home from her 16 mile bike ride with Cyndi to ask if I wanted to go to the park with the Swendners to eat Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner and let the kids all play with each other. I said “sure”, so she came home, we got the kids dressed, then we stopped at KFC to pick up dinner and met the Swendners at the park over in their neighborhood.

We had fun. The kids played. The kids ate well. The kids played some more. The adults chatted with each other. We found a guy with a great dog that would fetch a ball after the kids threw it for her. All around, a good evening with friends at the park.

Then we all went home.

When Christine and I pulled in the driveway, I asked if Christine brought a key for the front door (we’d locked it from the inside before escaping out the garage door). And last week, Christine broke the garage door opener in her car…

She said “no” and proceeded to get out of the car to check her diaper bag, just to make sure she didn’t have a key, while I checked to see if my car was open because my garage door opener still works. The car was locked, and she really didn’t have a key.

So we checked the fences on either side of the house. Both gates were closed, and only open from the inside of the fence.

Christine climbed on top of the A/C unit and reached over the fence to unlock one of the gates while I held the kids.

We went into the back yard. I knew one of the windows was unlocked, but we had an idea:

Let’s send Jack in through the doggy door and he can unlock the dead-bolt on the front door, and we can get in.

So, I walked around the house to the front door, while Christine got Wesley to come to the back door to open the doggy door (it’s an automatic doggy door that only opens when Wesley gets close to it, and it’s locked otherwise, so someone couldn’t really just break in too easily).

When I got to the front door, I looked for Jack, but didn’t see him… so I turned the knob and pushed, and the door opened…

So I called for Jack, and he came running from the kitchen.

I don’t think he’d made it to the front door yet, but I’d tried the door just five minutes prior and I could have sworn it wouldn’t open.

He did unlock the back door, so we could let Christine and Grayson in, though… silly me, I didn’t even think to have him unlock the back door.

Long story short: it’s nice to know we can break into our own house without a key, as long as Wesley is willing to come to the back door, and we have our three year old with us.

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3 Replies to “”

  1. Frank here. Interesting but sad story. I am sure you ha better things to do. I heard today that crooks are using doggy doors to rob people. They call it doggy dooring. At least that is what I heard on this mornings talk show.

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