My best friend in High School was Sandi.
This morning, Sandi posted the photograph above to Facebook, along with the following narrative.
A few years ago, under circumstances far too complicated for me to even attempt to explain (don't worry, nobody died), she took guardianship of her two toddler nephews, and as an always-been-single Mom, she's done a bang-up job raising them.
I just had to share.
After midnight, and I hear banging in J's closet, which is on the other side of mine. He doesn't stop, so I go to his door. It's locked.
I yell at him to open it-- the rule is No Locked Doors.
I pound and yell again, and hear a distant, "Mom? I'm locked in."
"Get your ass over hear and turn the damned lock now!"
"I can't. I'm locked in the closet."
It took quite awhile to get to the point I could pop the lock. It was very secure.
I go in. The closet doesn't lock, but it is shut all the way.
There's a handle on the other side, but no J.
Then I look up and see this. I'm partially in awe, and it's the only thing keeping me from killing him.
He poked his head down and explained, "The wind came in and shut the door. "
And that is supposed to suffice.
"Why the hell are you up there?!?!!"
"LOOK WHERE YOUR BODY IS! WHY IS IT UP THERE?!?"
"It's really cool, I can stand up here, there's stuff here too," he says, very nonchalantly, like my vessels aren't popping out of my face.
"How in the name of God did you get up there?!"
"I don't know."
"Child, presumably your head has been with your body all evening. How did your body get there?!"
"I just swung my feet up. Can you push that desk over?"
I finished trying to remove the lock, took the pic, and went back to bed.
That shelf is very sturdy. He can stand up to almost full height, too.
I figured he'd either get down or I'd hear a thud or I'd get him in the morning.
Eventually he got down without noise or injury.
I'm not going to survive his teen years.