Lock Lock, Who's There?

While at the Rose house, Gordon went through a brief but memorable period during which he liked to lock me out of the house. I would step out to get the paper or the mail, and the door would close "click" and then another more ominous "click." And I would be locked out.

"Open the door, Gordon!" I would say. No answer, just giggles. Perhaps even laughings-out-loud. For him, it was a great game. I'm not sure how I convinced him to let me in; somehow I did. But apparently the feelings of power were just to heady to resist because it happened again. And again.

This amusement didn't last long. Perhaps he tired of the game. Maybe I came up with a really great and effective punishment. Or maybe I started carrying my keys in my pocket AND came up with a really effective punishment. I can't remember. Doesn't matter. There's always another game.