Escape Artist

Two nights ago, Mace woke up at 4:30 a.m., got out of bed, turned on his light, went out of his room and into the playroom where he retrieved the trains he'd been playing with the day before, went back into his room, climbed into bed and (we think, but aren't positive) went back to sleep. I think he may actually be sleepwalking, but I can't be sure. Or he just wants to play with his trains at 4:30 a.m. Either is a distinct possibility. Flamingo Joe was a sleepwalker as a child. His mom and dad used to tie a rope to his ankle when they went camping so he wouldn't wander off in the woods in the middle of the night.

The most troubling thing about Mace's little adventure, however, is that neither Joe nor I woke up when Mace started wandering around at 4:30 a.m. And our room is right next to his. Grandma was on her way to the bathroom when she heard him (on the monitor) get up and open his door. She waited to hear the squeak of the door at the top of the stairs (I've been complaining about that squeak for several weeks now, but I'm thinking the squeak gets to stay permanently now) so that she could meet him at the bottom of the stairs and take him back to bed. So my mind started racing to the horrible things that could have happened if no one had been awake and he had just kept right on going out his door, down the stairs, out the front door and into the creek. Being a loving wife, I dumped my worst fears on Flamingo Joe and that very night he had installed these on all the doors leading out onto the porch (except 2 -- we have 6 exterior doors at our house, cut him some slack):



Both boys were asleep during the installation and didn't notice the chains until we were leaving to take Casey to school the following morning. "Wha' dat?" Mace asked. "Something to keep you safe" we said. When Mace and I got back from the school run, I went into the kitchen to get some coffee. As I was getting out the sugar ("you can have all the sugar you want" -- name that movie), I heard the rolling office chair being rolled across the floor in the front room. I walked into the front room and Mace was standing up on the rolling chair, reaching for the chain. We were really hoping Joe was not going to have to install 9 deadbolts this weekend.