How to you pick a lock?

There is nothing quite like finding moldy, brown apples in Sam’s purse.

Sometime ago we must have went to McDonalds and she got apples and put them in her purse probably with the intentions of eating them later. She never did. I mean imagine if I had never looked in her purse. How gross would that be? I guess out of all the things I could find in my tweens purse, a moldy apple is better than other things. Am I right? It could be worse.

Today I discovered why we can’t have locks on the boys’ bedroom door.

Today I was doing the normal, giving baths and taking care of kids.


Who’s calling my name? I look around the house. Lincoln and Ems are in the living room. Where is Nolan? His bedroom door is shut. I put my hand on the door to open it. Its locked. He locked himself in the room.

I start to panic. How can I open this door? I grab a driver’s license and try to break in. It isn’t working. I cant slid the card around the lock. Should I kick the door in? No, Nolan is standing on the other side. He will get hurt. I’m yelling for him to try and unlock the door. He’s one, so I knew that wasn’t going to work. I’m praying and trying to think. I decide I am going to take apart the door knob. I get the screwdriver and get to work. I see his tiny hand slide under the door. He calls my name once more. I am hoping this works. It does eventually and I see him on the other side smiling.

Today I was looking in the mirror at the amount of gray hair I’ve got. It is rapidly doubling at a scary rate. I might be fully gray at 35.

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