Good thing I locked the door

When my dad was here for 8 weeks, one of the things he did was to replace the locks in the front and back doors. Jon and I weren't exactly sure where a house key was located, and we never locked the house anyway. This concerned dear old dad. Once he had put in the new locks, he gave us keys and told us to keep the doors locked.

So now I always lock the doors when I leave the house. Yesterday afternoon I was fumbling at the front door with Vivian in my arms, and Gabriel hanging on my leg, trying to get my keys out of my purse, dropped the keys, picked them up, got the key into the lock, and then still holding Vivian and trying to maneuver around Gabriel pulled the door to me and turned the key. Once in the house, I breathed a sigh of relief, put Vivian down and walked into into the den. I realized that the bathroom light was on, and someone was clearly in there.

Knock, knock. "Who's in there," I ordered. "It's me, mom," said Charles. I was amazed. "How in the world did you get into the house?" I asked. "Well, I tried the front door and it was locked, so I ran around to the back door."

Good thing I locked the front door.