“Michael? What are you doing?”
“I’m drilling a lock into the door of my closet.”
I remain quiet for a moment while he drills another hole into the (rented) door frame.
“Sweetie? Can I ask you why?”
“Well, when you guys are away this summer, I thought it might be a good idea to lock up anything valuable in this closet.”
I pause for another moment to organize my response. While I want to say…
A. we don’t have anything valuable that will fit in that closet.
B. the people coming to stay while we’re away are:
-a friend of a friend who’s sending her kid down the street to a money camp
and C. if anyone really wanted to steal anything they could easily rip that lock right out of the drywall (before I was allowed to publish this post I was instructed to inform the reader that the lock was, in fact, screwed into the steel doorframe AND the screws are inaccessible when the lock is closed (!)-OUCH did I get an earful).
But then it dawns on me. When Michael was a young bachelor he went to an auction at Sotheby’s and bought a suit of armor for reasons unbeknownst to those of us closest to him. We all tease him about it relentlessly, RELENTLESSLY, even though we all secretly love it.
“Do you want to put your suit of armor helmet in there?”
“Well…yes,” he stammers, “I mean that and, well, whatever else we might want to put in there that we think is valuable.”
I stifle a giggle as I play out in my head how hard the babysitter and I are going to laugh when I tell her this story. She and her best friend, babysit for G and I adore them both, so much so that they are staying in our apartment while we’re away just to look after it and to be closer to some of their other charges.
The next time she comes over I say, “Look what Michael did to the closet!”
“Why did he do that?” she asks. “Does he want to lock up that crazy helmet?”
Since we’ve been in San Francisco, these are the 3 text messages the ladies have sent me so far.
(the little man had his first ER visit last week after dive bombing into a coffee table. 3 stitches)