Locked door

We did take full advantage of our last day of having the house to ourselves during the week. Well, we couldn't let that opportunity slip by, could we?

As it turned out we also had the house to ourselves last night. Daughter is away in France and Son was staying over at a friend's house. So we thought we were going to have a nice lie-in this morning. Until the phone rang at 8.15. It was Son wanting a lift home. He does pick his moments, doesn't he? So I had to get up and drive the ten miles or so to collect him.

But after we got back I snuck upstairs to get back into bed with Sue. So we did have our lie-in after all. It's just as well we have a lock on our bedroom door, though. Our bedroom is on the top floor of the house and hearing footsteps on the stairs is usually our early warning system. But this time the first we knew of Son trying to get into our room was the door handle turning. And…well…lets just say that we weren't under the bed covers at the time. We don't always lock the door because the children very rarely come into our bedroom. But on this occasion I had. It could have been a very awkward moment if I hadn't.

It was awkward enough as it was. Son had to tell us through the closed door that he was going out. I wonder what he thought was going on behind the locked door? Better that he use his imagination, though, than see the real thing.