A Little Pickle

One of the 1913 Webster's Dictionary definitions for pickle is a troublesome child.  I do not think of Aiden as troublesome, but what a pickle we were in today.  Just in case you think this looks like the face of innocence (ahem, Pop-Pop), think again.  The scenery in the above photo is the location I was trapped in this morning for 10 minutes.  The person in the photo is the one who trapped me there.

I invited a friend and her daughter over for a play date this morning.  The kids were playing nicely and enjoying some time on the seesaw on our patio.  My friend, her daughter, Noah and I were all taking in the fresh air when Aiden, who likes to slide the door open and closed, rather unexpectedly sequestered us on the porch by suddenly flipping the lock.  He doesn't usually play with the lock, though I'm sure he's observed me locking it and knows what it does.  Aiden has locked himself in his room before and I have no problem using my house key to twist the lock back open.  This was different.  Way different.  My patio has no exterior door.  Aiden had trapped us outside without an egress.  We did not have our mobile phones either.  I tried telling Aiden how to flip the lock back open, but while completely competent to lock the door, he seemed baffled by the concept of unlocking it and most unconcerned.  He did not cry.  He was not upset at all.  I'm not sure he appreciated his prank.  He just continued to play with the blinds, hitting them back and forth, without a care.

In a neighborhood where everyone has a dog and someone is always walking by with one, I was bemused that no one seemed to be around.  There were some workers by the pool with a pressure washer who would not have heard us above the noise.  After several minutes, my friend spotted a jogger and got his attention with a 'Help!'  I have been embarrassed before as a parent of the child at Starbucks who walks out the door and starts running up the street.  But this was just humiliating on another level.  I explained to him that my 2 year old had locked us out.  Since my front door was locked, he had to go to the management office to get someone to let us back inside.  A maintenance worker eventually came to our rescue.  To further my embarrassment, Aiden was not wearing any pants or underwear (because of toilet-training efforts) and the apartment looked like a bomb had gone off.  He didn't seem to notice though and after he left, I tried to have a serious conversation with Aiden about the situation he had created.  What if he had hurt himself and I couldn't help him?  Again, it was of little consequence or interest to him.  Sigh.  Sometimes, trying to have a logical exchange with my little man is the most challenging part of my whole day.

At other times, Aiden is very logical.  Tonight, Noah screamed all the way through dinner.  As I hurriedly crammed food in my mouth, I asked Aiden, 'Why do you think Noah is crying?'  Without a second thought, he answered, 'Because he's upset'.  Hmmm.  Wisdom from the mouths of babes.