Phone Calls You Don't Want to Get

So... it was a dark and stormy night- errr, morning. OK, it was actually bright and cool. Work with me here. I was in my office working, door shut. CD was at his computer. He was about to head out for the day so our babysitter of 3+ years, Elia, was over and taking care of Bear. CD's cell phone rang. It was Elia. On HER cell phone. CD: "Hello??" Elia: "Hello, CD? Could you come open the door please?" CD: "Where are you?" Elia: "Outside on the front steps." CD found this news fascinating because Bear, well Bear was INSIDE the house watching cartoons. Turns out? Bear was pissed off that Elia has come to watch him because he'd wanted Daddy to stay home. So while he and Elia had been playing outside, he'd waited until Elia was just out of range and then raced into the house and, yes, LOCKED.THE.DEADBOLT after himself. The one that can NOT be opened from the outside. Close your eyes and just imagine the Armageddon that ensued once CD had put together the scenario in his mind. Yelling? Yup. Steam from ears? You betcha. Stream of consciousness lecturing that would do an Oxford scholar proud? Aye, man! Preschooler over Daddy's shoulder into his room and into the corner for the world's most incredible time-out? Oh yeah, you know it. But punishment just upped the decibel level. Once he was freed from the corner, the unrepentant Bear lay on his bed - rejecting Elia's attempts to talk to him and throwing a force-10 tantrum. He was kicking the wall and crying and gnashing and wailing "I don't LIKE you and I don't LIKE Daddy!!". Oh, it was drama to beat the band here at CorporateMommy Central, my friend. I ejected myself from the office to see if I could help. In the den, I found CD. He was apeshit. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands outstretched in supplication and his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "What?" I asked. "It's just... it's just... I thought we had YEARS before he started locking his babysitter out of the house. " He's a flipping prodigy, I tell you.