Year 4, Day 32

Our third day in the new house, and Miles has figured out how to lock his door.

He beckoned us to come to his room this morning, and I arrived at his door to find the knob immovable. I tried to turn it a couple times, as one does, to no avail.

“Miles” I said. “I need you to unlock the door.”

“All right,” Miles said. The knob began shaking and rattling, as Miles fidgeted with it on the other side of the door.

I turned the knob again. And again, it was locked tight. From the other side of the door, Miles started laughing with delight.

“Very funny, buddy,” I said. “But can you unlock it please?”

“Okay,” he agreed. More fidgeting and, again, it was a merely a ruse.

Now Miles was laughing pretty hard, proud of his ongoing gag. And yeah, maybe I was laughing a little too.

He finally relented and actually unlocked the door. I opened it to find him standing there, beaming.

“You’re a real stinker, you know that?” I said, my outward amusement concealing my burgeoning concern for what this development could mean for future access to rooms in the house.

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