Doorlocks and Perspectives

Tucker loves keys.  He likes to be the one to take the car keys out of the ignition when we park the car.  He insists on unlocking whatever is needed.A while ago, we were staying with my in-laws.  They have a basement with several bedrooms and a bathroom, all equipped with door handles that lock.  Tucker was in heaven.Early in the evening, I went downstairs and found several of the doors locked.  He ran and got my keys.  Well, MY keys don’t unlock the doors in his grandparents’ house.  Fortunately, I had a small key that I could get in enough…maybe…a little twist…YES!  Success!I talked to Tucker and let him know he can’t lock any more doors.  Then I put him to bed and went back upstairs.  A few hours later, the rest of us were headed to bed.  I opened the door and found that the littles who were supposed to be asleep, were not.  Again, I told them all to get to bed.Brian went to open our bedroom door.  It was locked.  And my keys…they were inside the room also.Whoops.Tucker, still awake, thought this was great.  He ran around, actively searching for something to unlock the door.We asked my father-in-law for the key to open the door.  He didn’t have one.  In fact, they didn’t have keys to ANY of the locking doors in the basement.  We looked to see if we could take the handle off.  Where were the screws?  We had no way to remove it.Time to MacGyver it.Brian started with his own keys.  Nope.  None of them worked.  Next, he began working with a bobby pin.  Nothing was happening.  I found a twist tie on the floor.  I knew it was a long shot, but I gave it a go.  Fail.My patience was running out.  Tucker came to my side again, and I sent him to bed sternly.  His face fell.  He turned and went back to his bed.  I could hear him crying.  Still angry, I walked into his room.  “I’m sorry, Mommy.”  His eyes were full of tears and my heart softened.  I hugged him.We were still locked out.Brian’s dad came downstairs holding a massive pipe wrench.  He set it over the handle.  Was he going to rip it off??  Not wanting to escalate to that yet, we decided to keep working the bobby pin.  This time Brian was using it between the door and doorjamb.In the meantime, I started looking up how-to videos on youtube.  I found several that used a credit card.  All our credit cards were inside the locked room, so we borrowed one from my mother-in-law.Brian slid the card right where the lock was.  He slid it back and forth, simultaneously pushing on the door.  It opened!  Hallelujah!  The whole ordeal took about 30 minutes.  I looked down at the pile of tools beside the door, grateful we had only destroyed a bobby pin and scratched the door handle.I couldn’t believe how different perspectives can be.  Tucker was having a grand adventure, while I was angered and annoyed by such an inconvenience.  The story facts were the same for both of us, and yet our experiences were quite different.I hope I don’t forget that lesson.  It's a good one.