30 seconds

Why is Luke walking around with a long purple bruise on his face? Not because he is beaten, but, perhaps, because he is overindulged. See, I was getting dressed in my closet, and he was standing next to me, and he wanted to get up on my stepstool, which I helped him up on even though it's kinda rickety and not so safe, and he fell off somewhat spectacularly while swinging his hammer. He didn't seem to be too much worse for wear, except for the dark, angry streak down his cheek. But it goes to show you (read: me) that you can't let up your guard even for a second.

Like yesterday, when Luke and I were sitting in the playroom, and the guestroom door was open because I had gotten out some art supplies...so Luke ran into the guest room and politely asked me to leave while he shut the door. No sooner had I told him, "Do not shut that door," when he tried to open it and in the process LOCKED the door FROM THE INSIDE.

Now imagine all time freezing and the rest of the world floating around us in suspended motion. I tried to pry the lock open with my finger, and in the process ripped off a large chunk of my thumbnail. Then I grabbed the phone and made a panicked phone call to Dave (voicemail! dammit!) while trying to sound relentlessly upbeat for Luke. "Hang on just a minute, there, buddy."

Could I break through the window outside? Tricky, because the shutters were also closed. Could I bash in the door? It's pretty flimsy, but I'd be afraid of bashing through and giving Luke a matching bruiser on the other cheek. Could I call 911? How long would it be? Would Luke go into panic like me?

Then I realized that the part I turned with my thumb could be turned with a screwdriver, so I dashed to the basement and grabbed it and - whew! - unlocked the door. In reality, it was only about 30 seconds but it happened in agonizingly slow motion.

Luke, calm as a cucumber, took one look at my thumb and said, "Mommy, need a band-aid?" I left a follow-up message on Dave's voice mail..."Uh, please disregard the previous message and tone of panic."

So Suzi and Boom-boom are coming over to babysit tonight while we go out to celebrate our anniversary. (How many years is it again? Six? Seven? Paper? Iron?) I know he will continue to entertain them with his adventurous food choices (yesterday = a marinated clove of garlic). Let's hope they're more careful than I am. (Not hard, says the peanut gallery.)