Can I Handle This?

Life is never quite exciting enough for Tommy. As we piled into the car this morning, planning to hit the gym and then visit the local fire station afterward, Tommy donned his baseball batting helmet and began his usual routine of foolin' around in the car.

Generally, Tommy takes to the back of the car, climbing over seats and grinning at me in evil amusement because he knows A) how mad I am going to get and B) that there is not much chance I can actually catch him, since my pregnant belly will not contort into the shape necessary to get over the car seats and into the back row of the minivan.

This morning, however, Tom took to his more-dangerous habit of playing with switches and buttons in the front of the car. You can probably guess where this is going. He took a good, long look at me and then locked the car. I was annoyed, but one door was open...so no problem. I manually unlocked another car door and proceeded to get Tom strapped into his car seat. Then I shut his door and, in slow motion, heard...the... automatic...locks...re-locking...the...front...door. Didn't know that was a bonus feature.

With both kids strapped and my keys locked up tight, I panicked. It was a hot morning, and while we were in the shade of the garage, I didn't know how fast things would heat up in there. Thankfully, Daddy excused himself from work for an hour to drive out and save the kids. As we waited for him to arrive, I tried unsuccessfully to pry open the front window and stick a homemade hook contraption onto the auto-lock button. Tommy cheered me on and kept urging me to, "Use Daddy's hammer!!...It's right over there in the toooooooool box!!"

Kids are a riot, but sometimes, my Grandpa is right: Don't be in such a hurry to get them on the outside (of your body). They cause less trouble in your stomach.