Locked Outside By A Three Year Old

Many years ago I was working at a grocery store in town when I received a phone call from the lady who was our baby-sitter. Our daughter, Rachel, was four years old at the time and she had locked Dorothy (the sitter) out of the house. Not only had she locked her outside but she stood at the sliding glass door and laughed about her transgression.

Needless to say that by the time Dorothy got back inside and called me she was livid. I think it scared her more than anything, but I wanted my daughter to know that what she had done was a big deal and that she could not get away with treating Dorothy disrespectfully. I left my job, drove home and had a very serious talk with my wayward daughter.

Fast Forward

My daughter is married now and has two children of her own. Her little girl, Kennedy, is three. She is a feisty little thing with tremendous energy and shows signs of being every bit as independent as her mother. Twice today she has made me laugh until I almost cried.

The first time I was putting her and her little brother in the car and fastening their seat belts.

“Nana, don’t shut your butt up in the door,” she said matter-of-factly.

Why would she say that? Maybe she had inside information, or just maybe my backside is large enough that there is imminent danger. Either way, I didn’t take any chances. I got in the car carefully and fastened my seat belt.

“Nana, if you do get your butt caught in the door we will get the tweezers and get it out.”

Tweezers? Seriously?

We drove back to the house and I began unloading her and her little brother and the two tons of paraphernalia required for two children. On my last trip back in I tried the door knob and guess what? Yep. It was locked.

I knocked on the door and looked through the glass panel. There stood Kennedy….laughing.

Fortunately, I was able to convince her to unlock the door in a short amount of time. I did tell her not to do that again but she didn’t get the scolding her mother did when she was a little girl. For some strange reason things that upset me as a mother, now amuse me as a grandmother.

My granddaughter looks a lot like her father but her strong, independent streak belongs to my daughter. I have a feeling the fun has just begun.