Lock Down

There was this time, about a month ago, when there was a...ahem...marital situation going on when we thought our kids were asleep. And then we heard a sound, turned to our right, and saw our lovely 3 year old standing there quietly. How long she had been there, we do not know. Fortunately, we were under the covers. She didn't seem to notice that anything strange was going on. In fact, she immediately launched into a story about what her ponies wanted for a snack and what shows they wanted to watch while eating. Long story short, we realized our days of having charming, antique, lock-less door knobs were over. So tonight, my wonderful talented husband installed serious security measures on our bedroom: one on our bedroom door to the hallway, one on the bedroom door that leads to the bathroom, one on the bathroom door (which leads to our room) to the kitchen, and one on the crapper, just for good measure. No more peeping Toms. Or peeping Daphnes. Or peeping Becks. Or peeping Flossies. (Because having your cat walk in on you is nearly as disconcerting as having your kids walk in). And my guests can now use the bathroom with fear of interruption. And by interruption, I mean Daphne coming in to provide commentary about the amount of hair on your thighs. Life is good.