Bad news, folks. I’m a slow learner.
Yesterday afternoon I went out to mow again. I didn’t lock the door. (Don’t ask me what I was thinking.) After a bit, I realized The Baby Nickel was inside. Again. Up on the kitchen counter. Again. Loudly, calmly, responding to my call. Again. I huffed up on the porch, visions of mangled muffins flitting before my angrily squinting eyes, yanked open the screen door, and… But wait—it didn’t open. The Baby Nickel had locked it. Smart kid. Where’d he learn that? The other door was open, though. And he was just finishing up the four gummy bears I had set out for Sweetsies’s wake-up treat. He had only gotten two for his treat, so he was looking pretty pleased with himself.
